Predator: Come the Reapers
by Lord CrutchCricket
Summary: The fearsome Predators had finally found worthy prey: Hominus Nocturna, the vampire. But when one of their own goes missing, it is up to their most ruthless hunter to recover him... from the Reapers, the terrifying genetic scourge of vampire kind!
1. Prologue

NOTE: This is the story that was originally titled Predator: Prey of Death. It was to be abandoned and scrapped as I had lost interest. However since others did not, and I've gotten some new ideas, I've decided to take it up again. To that end I've updated the properties (as they didn't have a crossover section back when I started) gave it a new (and hopefully better) title and started writing. New fans welcome, old ones please take the time and re-read the prologue and first chapter as they have been modified somewhat according to my new direction. In other words:

_This story has been modified from its original version. It has be reformatted to kick more ass._

Like before, this is NOT a Blade vs. Predator fic. And obviously none of this crap, except the plot itself belongs to me. The Predator and the Blade characters belong to Fox and Marvel respectively (or whoever they sold it to). Thinking otherwise may cause impotence. And also, review like hell!! (please?)

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**Predator: Come The Reapers**

**Prologue**

_Five Years Ago_

The night was humid. The man followed his quarry through the darkest alleys of the city. Things had been unusual lately. The overbearing heat for one. They were saying it was one of the most brutal heat waves of the decade. But the heat bothered him no more than it bothered the things he was hunting. What did bother him were the rumors he began to hear. Rumors of people being killed by an unseen force then disappearing into ash. He had also heard a story of a man being woken up just before sunrise by piercing screams from the roof of his one-bedroom apartment. Screams that when investigated yielded nothing but embers blowing in the morning air. There was a new player killing vampires in town. And he was not human.

---

The familiar stopped, sensing something behind him. He turned and looked carefully, even stopping his breathing to hear any sound. There was none. He began walking again but could not shake the feeling that he was being watched. Finally unable to stand it, he turned on his heels just as a dark shadow knocked him to the ground. He tried to get up but found he was being held fast, something sharp and silver pressed against his throat, by a man dressed all in black. Something, maybe a sword seemed to protrude from his back.

"Talk," the man said. "Where are the safe houses in this city?"

"I don't know what you're talking about man," the guy answered shakily.

The man just shook his head then took the guy's left hand and ripped the sleeve. Clearly imprinted above the wrist was a strange marking that looked like a letter of some ancient language. "You're one of them," he hissed. "Just a wannabe though. I got no objections to killing you if you don't tell me what I need to know."

"I swear I don't…" the familiar's denial was interrupted by a loud scream from the adjacent alley. The man looked up in annoyance. Grabbing the familiar by the neck, he slammed his head on the concrete just enough to stun him. "Don't move," the man said then ran in the direction of the scream.

He reached the alley and was met with a dead end. The air was heavy with sulfur and ash. A vampire had died here. He looked around in confusion before something heavy thudded down in front of him. He only needed a glance to know what it was. It was a corpse, a man probably street trash by the looks of his clothes. His clothes were splattered with blood. Blood which flowed from the stump that had been his neck. A neck that had no head joined to it. He crouched down. The smell of the blood was electrifying, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to examine the body as a whole. The guy had screamed… then what? Silenced by removing the head. So where was the head? And where was the killer? And what had killed a vampire and a human without alerting him of his presence? He was considering these questions when he felt something splatter on his coat. He touched the drop and knew instantly what it was. Blood. Dripping from above. He looked up in amazement at another corpse suspended from a fire escape. A corpse dripping with blood and apparently possessing no skin. Getting up, the man removed a small handheld device from inside his coat and spoke a single word into it.

"Whistler,"

"Did you find the hideout?" came a raspy voice from the other end.

"No. I found another corpse. Skinned and left to dry."

"What the hell?"

"Looks to me like the boy offed a vampire and his wannabe. The he killed some street trash and took his head. There something you're not telling me, old man?"

"Look Blade, there's no one hunting suckheads in this city but us. Now whatever's out there is something else. Hell as long as the son of a bitch stays out of our way and sticks to killing vampires and familiars, he might as well be doing our job for us. Now find that damn safe house so we can call it a night."

Blade only grunted and turned off the radio. Then he went back and dragged the waking familiar to the corpses. The familiar took one look at the bodies and recoiled in fear but Blade held him fast.

"Now talk!" Blade commanded.

"Hey man, fuck you! I told you I don't know shit!" the familiar yelled but the panic in his voice was thick.

"You know, I could never figure out what the hell is wrong with you," Blade said. "Look at this!" He pointed at the dangling corpse's wrist then made the familiar look. A mark just like the one on the familiar's wrist was barely visible on the side of the neck. "That how you want to end up?

"Look, they'll kill me! They're everywhere man! You can't stop them! They have no weaknesses!" the familiar sputtered.

"Wrong. You hear of silver? Garlic?" Blade took out a silver stake and dangled it in front of his face. "They're not invincible. They're a disease. And this, is the cure. Now, where is the safe house?"

Blade listened as the familiar talked. Then he turned the guy loose who quickly made himself scarce. The he called Whistler and told him the location of the safe house.

"Goddamn, that's a public club. These shitkickers get worse and worse every day. We'll hit it tomorrow night." Whistler said.

Blade agreed then shut off the radio and left the alley. And high above the scene, perched on the rooftop, a new hunter had recorded the information.

---

_Three Years Ago_

Damien de la Sange was indisputably the master of his city. A pureblood, he for years fought the various gangs and factions of turned vampires to assume dominance after his father's death. Both cruel and sadistic, he had nearly wiped out all of them out before the rest surrendered. Those who immediately swore loyalty to him were left relatively unscarred. Those who did not were brutally tortured, both physically and mentally. The tortures often depended on rank. Enemy familiars were imprisoned and beaten within an inch of their lives daily. Retainers and lieutenants were chained outside to burn at sunrise. The heads of the gangs got it the worst. Systematically starved until they went insane, they were often fed their own defenseless familiars, who already were weakened beyond recovery, so their blood was almost useless and full of infections. Active torture included grinding fresh garlic over their bodies, or spraying them with diluted silver nitrate. Not enough to kill them, just enough to feel. In the beginnings of his rule he had some uprisings by siblings or lovers of the old heads. All he had to do was allow some rumors of what occurred in his private chambers to dissipate and the uprisings abruptly stopped. Yes, his dominance over this city was complete. The ignorant humans that were his food didn't even know of his existence, let alone challenge his position. Other vampires steered clear of his city, which suited him just fine. The only vampires in his city should be his. As far as greater powers went, the Old One, Damaskinos, mostly ignored him and the House of Erebus in America had fallen silent some months before. Rumors were that an uprising by one of their minions correlated with an attack by Blade had decimated them. That was just fine. He ruled unopposed, undismayed and free of challengers for years.

Now it seemed storms were stirring again. He had heard the reports. He had seen some bodies. That coupled with the stories that the infamous Daywalker was in town seemed to confirm his need to fight once again. However, thinking back to the events that have been taking place, he was sure it was not the Daywalker who was skinning his familiars. A few nights earlier, he had spotted something in the sky. He would've dismissed it as a meteor but something was wrong. Though his eyes sensed the motion, there was nothing there. The sky had been completely empty. He tried to focus in on it again, but it had disappeared. Something had fallen. Something he could not see. He didn't believe in premonitions but something about it gave him pause. Something deadly had been thrown into the mix. He put the thought aside and brought back to the present. He glanced outside at the city sprawled below him. His superior vision allowed him to clearly see the humans scurrying around on the ground below. How tiny and insignificant they all were. Like the one lying on his office couch now. Though he could bleed his numerous familiars anytime, he sometimes enjoyed playing the human and luring unsuspecting victims to his club office.

"What're you staring at?" the girl asked. She could not have been more than 25.

"People. Look at them down there. Scurrying like rodents. They kill each other off by the hundreds each day and yet those who know of our true nature condemn us. We don't do what we do for money, or for pride. We do it to survive," Damien's voice lowered to a whisper. If the girl were to look into his eyes now, she would surely be paralyzed with fear. They burned with an inhuman fire, and looked like they could see the bottom of the soul.

"What your fur industry or whatever it is?" the girl asked. "Listen, who gives a shit what they say? They're just a bunch of jobless nuts who don't seem to get that the damn things are animals. Animals are below us. Now are we gonna go again or what?"

Damien smiled. He did not put in much effort in the lie, but the girl swallowed it just as much as she had swallowed…other things. "Ahh, if you only knew the truth of what you speak. For it is the truth. But not in the way you're thinking of."

"What are you talking about?" the girl asked. She sensed that her client had taken on a different tone and not one she particularly liked. It was a dangerous tone.

Damien turned and walked towards her and when he neared the couch, she could finally see his eyes. She recoiled back, a frightened expression on her face.

"What the hell?"

"Come. I will show you the truth of your words," Damien whispered.

The girl panicked and tried for the door. It had finally happened. She had been warned that one of these days she would hook up with a psycho, and it was happening. But what the hell was with his eyes? They… burned. She screamed as she felt him grab her by the hair and drag her back.

Damien held her in place with a hand on her neck. Her eyes were wide with fright and her pulse was racing. He loved the feel of it. He reached with his other hand and closed on her breast, searching for her heartbeat. It felt like drums beneath his palm. He moved his hand and bend down to feel the pulse with his face. The girl was whimpering now. She had expected pain but since it had not come yet, she clung to some hope that she'd make it out of this. He had seen this pattern so many times before. She had expected pain. Why disappoint her? Still, he held back and licked her neck, the sensation of the pulse on his tongue exciting him. His head came up briefly and his mouth opened.

"You know what I am," It was not a question. The girl looked at him shocked.

"It's not possible…"

He simply smiled. "Just keep telling yourself that." And with those words he bent down and bit her. Her screams filled the room and echoed as they could not escape the soundproofed walls. He felt the blood flow into him, rejuvenating him. But more than that, he felt her life, flowing into him and that was the true pleasure. The pulse slowed, the heartbeats came weakly and less frequent. He sucked and he held her as the heartbeats disappeared and the pulse faded. Once he was sated, he sat back satisfied. He would call someone to dispose of the corpse but for now, he wiped the blood from his mouth and walked back to the window. He started to watch the scene below again. Suddenly he whirled and stared at the dark skylight above, mouth drawn back in a snarl, face wild. Eyes that could see far more than humans in nearly any condition searched the darkness. They found nothing. Just now, he had felt watched. The feeling had begun as he was toying with the girl but in his rush to feed, he had not paid much attention. He searched the skylight again looking for anything, recording devices, movement, the slightest betrayal of another presence. But there was nothing. Uneasy, he strode to a phone in the corner of the room to call security and have them do a sweep of the building.

Suddenly there was an explosion somewhere below him and the lights went out. He whipped his head around scanning the room for immediate threats. The emergency lights came on a moment later and the room was partly lit by their bright but limited beams. He could here screams and gunshots from below. Who dared invade his sanctuary? Heads will roll. The door burst open and five vampire bodyguards entered the room followed by a few slightly shaken familiars.

"What's the meaning of this?" Damien demanded. "Why are you running, cowards?"

"It's the Daywalker!" one of them said.

"So, the famous Blade finally decides to visit my humble abode," Damien mused. "Stay here. We will give him a worthy greeting."

---

Blade's further inquiries had led him to believe that this safehouse was the greatest in this city and could possibly contain their master. He had heard the stories. Another suckhead the world could do without. One whose reputation had been enough to halt his search for Whistler. He was sure this de la Sange did not have his mentor. He was too removed from the rest of the vampire nation. He didn't play ball and therefore would not be in their plans. But Blade's quest had taken him close enough and from what he'd heard he could not miss the opportunity to take him out. Now after all that reconnaissance he was more than ready for some action. Making sure all the exits were safely barred from the outside, he set the detonation packs in the upper corners of the doorways. He knew most of the vampires would try to flee. His "surprise" would take care of those. C-4 core, surrounded by silver ball bearings and other anti-vampire shrapnel. Very messy but very effective. The few that stood their ground… he had enough toys for them as well. Specially designed semi-automatic pistols shot silver hollow points with or without a garlic extract coating. His glaive, a curved spinning weapon of death could take down a number of enemies simultaneously when thrown and return to his hand ready for more carnage. And of course, there was always his sword. A titanium-silver alloy, he could use it to cut up vampires all night. Failing that he still had a number of silver stakes and razor wire that could be used in deadly hand-to-hand combat.

After he made sure the charges were all in place, Blade pulled out his semi-autos and briefly went over the plan. Go in, shoot a bunch of suckheads, bait them to his traps, then clean up the refuge. With a final crack of the neck he turned and walked right in. No one noticed at first, due to the loud techno music and partying. Blade took aim and shot the nearest vampire in the face. The crowd recoiled. He shot a few more in the head then gave up on accuracy and started spraying. He got about a dozen more before the entire crowd got the picture. They stampeded past him in a panicked frenzy, eager to get out to the doors. A few tried to swipe at him, but he shot them down before they even got close. Making sure the panic was complete, Blade ducked in the crowd and hid behind a pillar. He watched the scared vampires vainly try to break down the barricade. He had reinforced it with iron bars from a nearby construction site and dumpsters but yet they were beginning to make progress. It would have to be soon. He took out the detonator, counted to three silently and pressed the button. The explosion was deafening. The bombs tore through and Blade had to stay firmly pressed to the pillar as it was pelted with shrapnel from the other side. He could hear screams and smell the familiar sulfur as vampires became ash. Finally content that there were no more flying objects he emerged from his hiding spot to face several vampires. The club bouncers and a few of the tougher ones stood before him, some armed with chains and knives. Movement, to his right! Two vampires came at him shooting their own weapons. Blade threw himself to the ground and shot out their kneecaps. Both fell down screaming. Putting a bullet in the head apiece, Blade sprang to his feet. Dropping his pistols, he assumed a combat stance. The rest of them attacked now. One swung a length of chain at him, which he caught and gripped in his left hand. He yanked the surprised vampire into a waiting stake. The vampire crumbled into ash almost instantly. Another stabbed at him and soon found his arm broken. Blade kicked him away and shoved a stake into a vampire who'd been sneaking up on him with a crowbar. One by one they fell to Blade's highly effective martial arts until he was standing alone, surrounded by ash. He looked up the stairs to see a fresh batch coming.

"I don't think so," he hissed. Whipping out his glaive, he threw it at the approaching vampires. It whistled as it sailed through the air and threw vampire necks. The last one managed to duck and the glaive flew past him.

"Missed me, cockfag!" the vampire shouted triumphantly.

The glaive arched and swung around, coming again. The vampire was aware of movement at his back but was unable to help himself as the glaive sliced cleanly through his face. The glaive then returned to its owner.

"Surprise, cockfag," Blade said dryly. He replaced his glaive inside his coat when sounds of gunshots came down, followed by piercing screams. Words that sounded like "no, nooo" and "what the fuck" could be made out. Someone else was having fun up there. Blade moved quickly across the floor and up the stairs. Vampires met him at each level and dealing with them delayed him further. One thing he noticed though, even in the midst of battle was the higher he went the more terrified his opponents were. And it was not him they were scared of.

---

Damien had heard the gunshots and some sounds of fighting despite the reinforced walls. Soon the Daywalker would be up here and he would finally meet him in person. He quivered at the thought, though it was more sheer excitement than fear. He tensed himself for battle. He held an assault rifle in his hands and had also strapped his father's ceremonial sword to his back. His bodyguards had their own weapons and even the familiars had gotten themselves guns. This night would mark the end of Blade. And he, Damien de la Sange would be instrumental to his destruction.

There was sudden movement in the doorway. Damien nearly screamed as his panicky guards nearly shot more of their own. More vampires poured into the room. He noticed few of them were carrying good weapons or indeed any weapons at all. The terror on their face was evident.

"Cowards! You flee from Blade? Do you really think the quick death he gives you a worse fate than what I will do to you if you fail me?"

"It's not Blade my lord," one of the vampires stammered. "It's something else!"

"It came out of nowhere!" another sobbed.

"Some sort of invisible force-" a wounded familiar cried.

"A devil." One of his enforces said with all the tone of a defeated man who already accepted death. "We've forsaken God, we've broken His Laws, we drink the blood of the innocents and now the devil has come to collect his dues."

Damien's rage boiled over. He grabbed the enforcer and made him face the full fury of his eyes.

"I am your law! I AM your God!" He fully expected the hapless minion to cringe and remember his true allegiance.

But the enforcer merely glanced at him with dead eyes. "Judgment has come."

Despite his shock and his fury, for some reason, Damien looked up at the skylight. The stars seemed peaceful. But there was also something else… He never finished that thought, because a loud crash knocked him to the floor. Damien stared as some sort of… shape swung a blade, or perhaps an axe and decapitated the enforcer who never even moved in one clean stroke. He quickly scurried away from the broken glass and stared wide eyed at the scene unfolding. The room was chaos. His bodyguards were firing everywhere and hitting nothing. Then one by one they were struck down by an unseen force. One was impaled on what seemed to be a floating spear then tossed away as his body degenerated. Another simply had his head swiped off. A blue ball of plasma appeared out of nowhere and blew a gaping hole in a vampire. Some sort of spinning thing flew by his face and dug in the heart of another vampire. Within seconds, the entire room was killed and Damien had no idea what had caused it. He focused and could see a shimmering in front of him. He raised his assault rifle and fired at it. The shape dodged impossibly fast. It swiped the gun away from him and threw him away. Then electricity began to crackle where it was standing and suddenly it appeared. Damien could do nothing but gape. The thing was huge! A wide assortment of weapons and who knew what else were attached seemingly at random to its net clothing. Its face was covered by a helmet of some sort. The thing clenched his fist and twin three foot blades popped out of its gauntlet. In its left hand it carried what Damien identified as a syringe. It looked more like a hunting knife. Not even in his wildest torture rooms could he find something like that. What was this creature? Was there truly a devil? Was this thing his ferryman to hell? Then slowly it dawned on him to. An alien. But that was absurd. He pulled out his sword and slashed at the thing. The creature raised its own blades and simply met the attack. The wristblades sliced cleanly through the vampire's sword and Damien was left holding a useless stump. His father's sword, which he had assured himself several times, was unbreakable stood broken before him.

"Impossible," he breathed. Then to finalize his shock the creature spoke. But it was not in its voice, nor in its language. It seemed to come from a microphone and what was most shocking was that it was his own voice, played back at him.

"Just keep telling yourself that"

Damien de la Sange began to scream.

---

Blade burst into the private room a little before sunrise. Weapons at the ready he had expected a fight. But what he saw was nothing. There were the bodies of some familiars skinned and left hanging. The absence of the rest of the other former inhabitants was quickly explained by the glowing ash on the floor and the smell of sulfur. He recounted the time it took to fight the vampires on the club floor, to the time he had killed the last one, to the scream and how long it took for him to get up there. A few minutes, 20 at most. But from what he could tell someone had killed at least 15 vampires and some familiars, skinned and hanged the humans then disappeared? He saw the broken skylight and knew where the attacker had come from. But it was a ten foot leap to the top. No human could possibly make that. Even he was hard-pressed to do a stunt like that, leaping straight up. And why skinning? What was the significance of the skinning? He walked around inspecting the bodies. What could do that in less than 20 minutes? He spotted something in the corner. It was a body, without a head. Judging by the ring on its finger, it was undoubtedly the master. But that didn't make sense. Why had he not turned to ash if his head was removed? Blade bent down to examine the body. Some sort of green fluid seemed to dripping out of the neck stump. Before he could take a closer look the first rays of sunlight hit the room, lighting the body like a torch. Blade stepped back and sensed something behind him. Turning with a stake at the ready, he saw nothing. Then looking up he saw a shimmering thing stand. He blinked. The thing stood there for a second then disappeared.


	2. Chapter 1

In case you missed it, I've modified this story for editing purposes as well as my new direction. So returning readers please read previous parts as well so you're not confused by the changes. As always review like a mofo (it really does help). Oh and copyrighted characters are obviously not mine.

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**Chapter 1**

The hunter had no name. At least none which he cared to use or others cared to call him by. His real name long since forgotten, he had been labeled the Renegade by his clan due to his differing qualities, namely his disregard for rules and customs. He could not have cared less about rituals or the customary tribute to the elders when returning from the hunt. This meant as much to him as the prey he hunted. He had honor, yes. His personal honor stood above all else, and he followed the warriors' code rigorously on hunts. And his skill was certainly not lacking. His ability to overcome any obstacles on the hunt and the number of successful hunts he performed were indeed, the things that had thus far allowed him his variances. Mainly he was indifferent to authority and to the Yautja hierarchy. Unblooded, blooded or even Elder, their opinions were equally unphasing in his mind. Their combat skills drew his respect when they had been proven, but he cared little for them otherwise. Indeed he had challenged an Elder for breeding rights on the homeworld and the fight had ended in a draw. If he had lost, he had no doubt he would've been killed on the spot. As it was only the intervention of the other Elders had saved him from serious reprimand. Still the event had its effect. He was a loner even by predator standards, and was drawn out of his quarters only by the hunt, or by the most serious of challenges which was settled in duel.

His quarters were the other reason no yautja went out of his way to socialize with him. As an experienced hunter, the Renegade had been given his own quarters. The internal decoration was of course left up to him. His quarters were always dim and gloomily lit. His trophies and his equipment were hidden from view and he himself was often lost in the shadows. Should a hunter peek in, he'd need to scan the room with his mask before finding the Renegade. At which point he'd be coldly told to move along. The young and unblooded were in awe and feared him, the full hunters respected but distrusted him and the Elders were weary of him. It was for these reasons that the clan refused to send him on more than the minimum amount of required hunts. He was volatile and unpredictable.

The Renegade himself though could not care less of their thoughts. He stayed alone in his quarters, modifying and upgrading his gear or polishing his trophies. His trophies were partly the reason his quarters were so dark, particularly after the last hunt. For he possessed a new kind of trophy, which no other hunter had before claimed. Many had them now, it was a long time since the discovery of this new prey. But he was the first. The first to find them, and the first to perfect the way in which these skulls were taken. They could not simply be lopped off the victim, or they would disintegrate in an instant. And they needed to be in constant darkness to be preserved or at the most, be illuminated only by certain artificial light sources. The Renegade glanced at them now and the memories of that hunt began to surface in his mind. The skulls seemed human at first glance. But they were even paler than normal human skulls, a color that seemed impossible to belong to any living thing. The other difference occurred in the teeth. The front upper and lower canines were extended to a sharp point. They were fangs. Looking at them, the Renegade began to remember the hunt clearly. The surprise at the discovery, then the rewarding but tedious search for the creature's weaknesses. It had been good.

The Renegade's thoughts were interrupted by a summons coming from outside his quarters. He approached and glanced down at the young messenger. He was to report to the Chamber of Elders for a hunt. The Renegade was surprised. This was unusual. Not only were they giving him a hunt so soon after his last one, but they were calling him to the Chamber. Hiding his feelings from the messenger, he just nodded and followed him down the hall and up the lift to the Chamber. He arrived in the middle of a debate. It did not take much to realize it was about him. Most of the elders were apparently against this assignment. However he noted that the High Elder and a couple of the other ones that mattered were on his side. So he would hunt again. He simply stood there and waited for them to finish. One Elder finally noticed him and snorted derivatively. It was Spear Barb, the elder he had challenged for breeding rights. Until that moment, no one had dared challenge an elder. Even on the rare occasion when such duels did take place it was considered almost the duty of the lower class to maintain the honor of the elder. In the Renegade's case, he had fought viciously and the match had resulted in a tie only due to the intervention of the High Elder. Personally he had not won much but the enmity of Spear Barb. But he defined himself as he saw fit and that was victory enough.

The Elders, composing themselves before the lower class hunter, stood by impassively while the High Elder addressed the Renegade. The High Elder began by asking him if he was the one who had found the new human-like prey. The Renegade answered affirmatively. The High Elder then bade him to describe how it had happened. The Renegade recalled the details clearly. As he began narrating, he could see it happen again…

---

_Five years ago._

The Renegade was his third day of the hunt, but had not yet come across a worthy challenge. He had observed the differing layers of the human society. First there were the "gangs" and "street thugs". Like the yautja bad bloods, they were the criminals and the outlaws. They had no honor and lived off what they could find. Another activity they actively pursued was intoxication by chemical means. Watching them, the Renegade was filled with a cold disgust. These beings were pathetic. Willingly damaging their bodies, they had no honor and preyed on the weak and the defenseless to sustain their livelihood. He had killed several out of pure contempt. Next were the majority of humans who simply went about their lives. Civilians, having no defenses were utterly ignored by the Renegade. He would gladly have gone after the human law enforcers. These humans were trained in the use of weapons and combat. Even more in large cities where there were a greater number of bad blood humans. However he had been given strict mandates by the clan not to hunt human officials. That drew attention from the human government which had hounded them before. It was an order even the Renegade could not disobey. Still it frustrated him. There were no challenges anymore. He leapt from one building to the next in the area humans called "the ghetto". He crouched on a ledge above an alley and looked around. Such dark places were the gathering areas for gangs. He would have no choice but to hunt them some more. His vision focused on a single human walking down the alley. It seemed to walk tentatively as if afraid. The Renegade understood. It was female and pretty defenseless by the looks of it. The reason she was risking traveling through the alley, eluded him. The pattern was almost predictable. The Renegade turned his head and picked up the lurking gang member almost instantly. He knew exactly how events would unfold. The waiting human would ambush the female and force her into submission. Then he would either take her valuables or initiate sexual contact. The female would not consent to either but she would be powerless to resist. The only choice resided with the predator himself. He could either intervene and kill yet another gang member or allow the ambush to end successfully. While he was deciding, three new figures approached from behind the waiting human. The Renegade focused on them and nearly chattered out loud in surprise. Two of the figures' thermal images were considerably dimmer than the other. Checking the exact ranges, the Renegade determined that they had half the normal body heat. But that should be impossible. Humans were frail creatures. Too much variation from the norm in body temperature led to severe sickness and even death. These humans however did not appear to be sick. They walked normally, with even more fluidity than the "warmer" human.

The would-be assailant did not yet notice them. His attention was all on the woman. She would be nice. He was about to spring out, when suddenly he heard footsteps behind him. Turning, he saw three men approaching. The first he recognized by name, a fellow high school dropout. The others he recognized them for what they were. One of them turned and looked right at him. _He can't see me_, the gang member thought. But the vampire simply raised one hand and whispered "Stay." Too frightened to move, the thug stood cowed as the three moved towards the woman. This wasn't worth it. As soon as they moved past him and began talking to the woman he ran off in the other direction, not daring to look back.

"Evening," the human of the group said. "You were just about to walk into a rape."

"I… what?" the woman asked taken aback.

"There was a…lowlife behind that dumpster," a vampire spoke. "We saved you from disgrace. In return we'd like a little something."

"What are you talking about?" the woman asked fearfully. Something about the stranger's eyes scared her.

"We're thirsty. We've been wondering this neighborhood for hours with nothing to drink," the second one spoke.

"There's… a burger place… over by 5th avenue. I can give you some money…." the woman stammered.

"I'm afraid caffeinated drinks are no good. We need something more… vital," the first vampire said. Then, before the woman could reply, he grabbed her by the throat. The second one moved behind her, while the human stood by watching.

The Renegade continued to be surprised by the course of events. The three newcomers walked by the thug unabated. One of them raised a hand in a stopping gesture. The thug seemed to cower at it and then run off when the low-heat things moved on. The three then proceeded to the woman and a brief exchange occurred. The Renegade activated his translator and monitored the conversation. Mainly the low heat beings talked, about being thirsty. This did not surprise him. No doubt the humans needed water to replenish themselves and raise their body temperatures. The woman replied something about a "bugger" place, which the predator did not understand. Then it happened. The first of the low heat humans grabbed the woman by the throat. The Renegade quickly shifted vision modes back and forth as if his mask was malfunctioning. The second one grabbed her arms from behind. Whatever these humans were, they were definitely not sickly or dying. Indeed their speed and strength seemed above the norm for humans. Perhaps these creatures could provide a challenge. What happened next filled him with disgust even more than the gang members he had killed. The first low heat human twisted the woman's head so her neck was exposed and then he bit her. The woman's scream was shrill and loud. The thing holding her arms simply laughed as its brother continued to suck. The Renegade stood up revolted. What were these things? Cannibalistic? Devouring their own people? As he watched, he realized the thing was not eating. He was draining the blood. A parasite? Whatever it could be classed as, the revulsion it created within the yautja angered him into action. Decloaking, the Renegade jumped down, wristblades springing out as he fell. He landed heavily beside the watching human and backhanded him aside as if he were nothing. The vampire waiting for his turn hissed at him, baring fangs, but it was clearly confused by this new intruder. The Renegade moved quickly. Grabbing the still sucking vampire, he ripped him off the woman and hurled him away. His right hand came up and plunged the wristblades into the second one's stomach, disemboweling him. He turned to face the first parasite and was surprised to see that the thing was already on its feet and rushing towards him. It moved with amazing speed. It was fast. The Renegade was faster. He grabbed it by the neck and slammed it into the wall with enough force to shatter the concrete. Turning around to look for the woman, he was utterly shocked when the second vampire leaped at him knocking him back. One glance at its stomach was enough for the Renegade to shout out loud. The wound he had inflicted was already healing! Impossible! And the strength these things were displaying was breathtaking. He actually was having trouble pushing them away. As he grappled with the human thing, he saw the first one coming out of the rubble, with a fully intact head. Enough of this! The Renegade freed his right arm and slammed his wristblades into the latching thing's chest. It screamed in pain and let go. The predator threw him against the wall. Pulling out his customized spear he impaled the vampire and pinned him to the wall. It screamed and trashed and it was clear it had no intention of dying. The Renegade turned and slammed into the first vampire as it leapt towards him. Grabbing its neck, he threw it to the ground and kicked it sending it sliding a good five feet. Not giving it the chance to recover, the Renegade picked it up and slammed it into the wall again face first. He drove his wristblades into the back of the neck, severing the spinal cord. He withdrew and slashed horizontally this time, decapitating the thing completely. It was then that the Renegade received the biggest shock of the hunt. Instead of squirting a fountain of blood as it was expected the corpse burst on fire. Collapsing down it burnt and disintegrated in an instant and the stupefied predator was left with a smoldering pile of ash at his feet. The head, which had fallen a few feet away, was also reduced to ash. Meanwhile the second vampire had actually managed to pull the spear from his body and charged at their attacker yelling. The Renegade turned and caught the spear just before it stabbed him. Twisting, he wrenched the spear from the vampire then stabbed him again. He moved in and severed the head like he did with the last one. This one also crumbled into ash, the spear that was in his body falling to the ground. The Renegade picked up his spear and retracted it, still shocked by what he saw. The human that was with them finally recovered consciousness and pulled out a gun. He fired it wildly but one bullet did manage to clang off the yautja's shoulder armor. Annoyed, the Renegade picked him up and drove his wristblades into the human's chest. He was satisfied to see the blood spurt from his mouth. This was a normal human. He dropped him and after he was sure he was dead, looked for the woman. Her prostrate but breathing form indicated she'd fallen unconscious. However she was bleeding profusely and would not likely survive. The Renegade activated his cloak and leapt up, scaling the building easily as he made for the roof.

---

_The present._

When he finished, the Elder asked him describing their weaknesses. The Renegade told of the metal humans called silver, a plant called garlic and sunlight. Failing that, a hunter could kill these creatures by removing the heart or the head. The High Elder nodded and asked how he had come know these things. The Renegade paused for a moment. All this was clearly outlined in the archives. Plus he was no longer the only one to have hunted the vampires. Many of the clan now possessed the knowledge and skill to kill them. But seeing no withdrawal of the question, the Renegade was forced to continue. He had observed another hunter, a human, but unlike any human before encountered. This human moved like they did. His skill in combat was extraordinary. He had described the weaknesses himself, to another human, and the Renegade had been there to record it. Later he had seen him use these in combat and they proved to be highly effective. Lastly he had attempted his own experiments all of which were successes. The Renegade did not forget to mention that all of this was outlined in the archives, a statement that brought on looks of indignant anger from Spear Barb. He demanded why he had not killed this human and taken his trophy. The Renegade replied that had the time limit of his hunt not been so rigidly implied, he would have done so. Spear Barb was at a loss. It was he who had stressed that regulation and now it was turned against him. The High Elder cut in before any more enmity could manifest itself. The Renegade's reports were very thorough but something had happened. Something for which the reports had no helpful knowledge. A hunter had been dispatched to the human planet to hunt the parasitic humans. However contact was lost and he was a week overdue. His pod still transmitted vital signs, but they were weak and strange. There was a possibility he was captured. The Renegade was shocked. Not only at the breach and dishonor the captured yautja had inflicted but at what they were asking. The High Elder looked at him steadily. He was the first to hunt these creatures and the most knowledgeable on them. He was to go and terminate any who were holding the predator in captivity and any who had studied him or his technology. Then he was to return the disgraced hunter and bring him before the Elders if at all possible. Failing that, he was authorized to kill him if extraction proved to be impossible. He would be going alone, to prevent arousing the attention of the human government. The Renegade took all this in, still feeling shocked. It was very unusual to be given permission to kill another yautja. And the way they approached the problem seemed off as well. They were afraid of something, he realized. But what? Then it occurred to him. The Elders had not reported the discovery of vampires to the rest of the clans. By yautja law every new dangerous prey species, especially sentient ones had to be reported as soon as they were discovered. Their society, their technology, their weaknesses. New clans would want to hunt them. But in the case of intelligent species that could actually challenge a predator, reporting every piece of useful information was not only honorable but mandatory. But the elders could not call in an Arbitrator or a Sterilizer because they had not reported the very existence of vampires. They would've had to swear the other hunters to secrecy. How they did this the Renegade did not know. For his part he had not been approached. But then again, why would he? He kept to himself and never divulged anything unless given no other choice. Still such an unlawful breach shocked even him. But in the end did it matter? Not at all. Because the Renegade now had to hunt. He agreed and left the chamber to prepare.

---

The Renegade was soon ready to hunt. As an experienced hunter, he had the luxury of preparing in his quarters rather than at the shuttle bay. He began by putting on his net suit. This was a versatile all around "clothing" that served two key functions: it either electrically heated or cooled to keep the hunter's body temperature at an optimum for the hunt; and it allowed the hunter to hook his weapons, equipment and trophies to his body for easy transport. Next came the armor. Strong, but light and maneuverable, it only covered vital areas and was ideal for a stealthy hunt. The Renegade connected his energy pack and plasmacaster mount next. The energy pack powered all the electronic equipment and could be set to overload by the wrist computer, thus causing a phase or small thermonuclear explosion. With the basic equipment in place, the Renegade attached his weapons next. Although clan regulations stressed a maximum of weapons based on class, the Renegade cared little for this. He was fond of different ways to kill his prey and disliked overusing any one weapon. As a result he carried as many weapons as was practical.

Besides his wristblades, which were permanently attached to his forearm gauntlet and his state of the art plasmacaster, the Renegade also chose a spear, a net gun, a spear gun, a maul, several laser tripmines (he had acquired these with great pains as they were not standard issue for a hunter of his class) and a disc. His spear was modified from the standard issue. Extending to two meters in length, the spear ended in a barbed point at one end and was double-bladed at the other end, similar to a human battle-axe. The blades were triangular and as sharp as technology would allow. The net gun was standard, razor-wire mesh with servo-motors that could be recompressed and reused. The Renegade preferred the rifle version of the speargun, rather than the pistol. It had a larger clip size, more power and greater accuracy. The downside was that even retracted, it tended to be large. The maul was a weapon with a handle, similar to a human nightstick. Unlike the nightstick, however the handle was attached to a set of blades, twin blades in front, counterbalanced by one in back. The blades were slightly curved and razor sharp. When handled by an experience hunter, they could create an awesome circle of slashing destruction that few targets could resist against. In the interest of conserving space, the Renegade chose a shuriken disc instead of the fixed-radius disc. It served the same functions but took up less space. When all the weapons were attached, the Renegade picked up the medkit. This portable kit fit into his hand easily and contained everything he needed if he got injured. Twin syringes that gave the hunter a stimulant and kept him going even when seriously wounded and cleaned any infections that a yautja's natural antibodies may have missed, several vials of glowing blue substance and a burner to mix a sealing solution to stop bleeding and promote healing in the field. The kit also included surgical blades should the hunter need them.

His mask was the last to be attached and the Renegade did so almost reverently. The mask served some very ritualistic purposes and was highly ornate. What the Renegade was more interested in was its functionality. And in that, the mask excelled. Heavily modified from standard designs it was a piece of equipment that would leave many hunters with severe envy if they had been allowed to view its many features. It featured an upgraded three-point laser guidance system and several layers of air filtering, Directional microphone and speaker combo allowed for the recording and playback of prey sounds. It also provided almost simultaneous translation of language, regulated by a chip installed in the mask by the Renegade himself. The real treat lay in the vision modes however. Besides the standard thermal, micro-electromagnetic (xenomorphs) and tech view, it also featured x-ray, ultraviolet, motion tracking and a new, experimental sonic imaging system. Used with microphone, it sent a series of high-pitched chirps and recorded the echoes as a sketch of lines. Nothing could hide from this mask especially when used expertly by the Renegade. Once the breathing tubes, and power wires were connected, the Renegade proceeded to the shuttle bay. On route he met a pair of newly blooded hunters, who seemed undecided as whether to greet him or make themselves scarce. They finally decided to slip into a room quickly and he passed them without a second thought, even though he could feel their eyes on his back and he kept walking. He passed a more experienced hunter who saluted him neutrally. He responded equally, then turned a corner and arrived.

A single elder was there waiting by his craft. The Renegade noted that it was the one he had challenged a while ago. It made no difference. He shifted his eyes to the craft itself. A pod, not a shuttle. He was not surprised. Spear Barb still bore him some enmity and would try to disadvantage him as much as he could. Stupid, given that this mission was to save his honor, not the Renegade's. The latter greeted him first as custom prescribed but mostly because he wanted to get on with the hunt. Petty conflicts could wait. The elder returned the greeting with a nod, rather than the usual words. The Renegade seemed unphased. He waited for the blessing to start the hunt. The Elder instead pointed at his weapons. Too many, he said. The Renegade simply looked at him. Even if he had not been wearing his mask, no facial expression was necessary to convey the message. The Elder got angry and snarled, demanding that he remove some of his weapons. The Renegade deliberated for a moment then decided. He strode past the Elder and entered the pod. The Elder was furious. He started to roar but the Renegade cut him off. Finally he spoke.

"The hunt is late, and I would not delay it anymore if I were you, o Wise One. As for my weapons I believe I will actually need more equipment given this is not the average hunt. I believe a chemical analyzer is in order."

"Inconceivable!" Spear Barb snarled. "You dare make such demands of me?"

"I need it to succeed quickly and you shall provide it. After all we need to avoid the attention of any passing Arbitrator, do we not?"

His tone was dangerous and the Elder was taken aback. Finally he stormed off, ordering a technician nearby to comply with the Renegade's request. The technician quickly relayed the message through a communicator and looked fearfully at the Renegade as he finished prepping the pod for launch. The Renegade for his part paid no attention. He secured his weapons in the pod's compartments and checked the life support. When he was done, he looked at the technician expectedly. A second technician hurried in carrying a rectangular device with two prongs on one side and two holes on one end. He reverently handed the device to the waiting hunter who promptly secured it to his wrist computer. The chemical analyzer was an add-on to the wrist computer that could quickly analyze just about any chemical composition encountered. Even more useful was its tracking feature that could detect just a few parts in a million and display the trail visually. It was a common tool used by Sterilizers but was found scarcely in the other classes. As the Renegade settled in the harness, the technician made a gesture approximating to "good luck" which was ignored, then sealed the pod and started the launch sequence.

The insertion pod was a simple craft, single occupant pod with engines and four petal-shaped air brakes at the back. The petals deployed once in atmosphere, slowing the pod down and providing steering, either for the autopilot or the hunter himself if he chose to pilot. It was designed to get a hunter on location and be his personal storage locker as he gathered trophies. It had no capabilities to relaunch, but it did have a transmitter that the hunter activated to call for a ride home and a cloaking device to hide it from prying eyes. If found and tampered with, the pod sent a distress signal to the clan ship then self-destructed. The autopilot automatically steered the craft to remote locations where humans were less likely to congregate and spot it. The Renegade checked his pod thoroughly. It did not strike him as impossible for someone to sabotage it and claim a technical failure. Seeing nothing wrong, he opened a side storage compartment and was pleased to see the additional portable science module folded neatly and awaiting his use. Having bribed the pod security yautja in looking the other way the Renegade had stashed what would be the computer running his base of operations in a spare compartment. It contained among other things an even more sophisticated chemical analyzer than the one currently attached to his wrist with the capability of also synthesizing nearly any organic compound. Furthermore it contained more life support trackers like the ones every hunter wore. But even more important was the computer package that with proper peripherals could turn nearly any space into a temporary base. This gear was more befit of science officers and was forbidden to hunters. But despite the Elders wishing to treat this as just another hunt, the Renegade knew this was something different. Some thing that required more than leaping around and lopping off heads. It required a base of operations and getting to know your enemy on a much closer level. In many ways the Renegade finally felt like this was truly a hunt worthy of his skills. Satisfied everything was in order, he initiated launch and the pod was slung away from the clan ship. Once clear, its main thrusters activated and the pod glided smoothly towards the planet.

The Renegade checked the landing coordinates the autopilot had picked out. A real-time image of the place appeared in front of him. A narrow gorge, near a patch of woods. No humans for miles. Perfect. The Renegade confirmed and the pod shot towards the gorge. As it approached heights accessibly by human aircraft, it activated its cloaking device and continued on its path. The Renegade was constantly scanning the readouts to make sure his craft was not spotted by primitive human surveillance, as unlikely as that may be. Once he was sure he was below the radar blanket he braced for impact. The compensators on the pod were excellent but as it was, he might still feel a slight jolt. A few seconds later there was a large boom as the pod crashed in the gorge. The Renegade shut down the systems manually then opened the doors. Darkness greeted him. He climbed out of the pod cautiously and scanned his surroundings. Nothing moved. Next he inspected the condition of his craft. It was firmly lodged at the narrowest point of the gorge and was not easily accessible or visible from the top. As a plus, the shock of the crash had caused a withered tree to crack and fall over, giving the pod even more cover. The predator was sure that no human could find it. Collecting his weapons and gear, he sealed the door. Commands to the pod now came from his wrist computer. He activated the security systems and the cloak. A brief beep from his console told him all systems were functional and indeed the pod disappeared before his eyes. Should he switch to Predtech, the vision mode that allowed him to see technology and Yautja technology in particular, the craft would appear again, as a white egg. Satisfied in securing the pod, the Renegade began the climb out of the gorge.

The walk through the woods was pretty uneventful. The Renegade knew humans sometimes liked to leave their structures and spend a few days doing what they called "camping". Perhaps it was a way to give tribute to their roots, to revisit their past. But like many human activities, its purpose was lost on the Renegade. Nevertheless he encountered no humans camping, so his progress was unabated. He spotted a medium-sized quadruped stalking a larger one to the side. Soon other animals of the same variety became visible. Although the larger one had menacing antlers on its head, the Renegade had no doubts about who the hunter was. He remembered the creature was called a wolf. It was very fast and intelligent and attacked in packs. The Renegade stopped briefly to watch their progress. The wolf pack attacked as one, snarling and yelping. The deer, took off in the opposite direction. Its speed was impressive, but it was already too late. A wolf blocked its path, momentarily giving it pause. At the same time, another wolf leaped for its throat. The deer turned its head, and the wolf got the antlers full in the face. Another one leaped and had more success. Knocking it back, the wolf bit at the throat viciously. Two more wolves joined in and knocked the deer down. It was over after that. The whole pack moved in to feed. The Renegade moved on, no longer interested. These creatures hunted for food, not honor. The way they did it was their business alone. Right now he had his hunt to worry about.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

He moved through the dark hallways of the blood bank, almost pacing. He could tell this place was ill-kept. But was it necessary to keep him here that long? He though they'd be happy to receive him. And yet even when his number had been called, he'd been held back by a plump woman, telling him he'd get called by name shortly. His temper had almost flared at that, but he'd managed to calm himself down. Pulling his hood more over his face, he moved back to the common area and sat down. He coughed slightly but otherwise was fairly quiet. Cats scampered around people's feet at random. Soon another man sat down beside him. This man had a day old stubble and long hair that looked wild. It was not long after he sat down that he began to talk.

"Is this your first time giving blood?" the man asked, his voice a hushed whisper. He coughed and answered "Yes". The man looked satisfied then leaned back over and spoke some more.

"You know the pay cash here?" the man said excitedly. He nodded and the man continued. "And there's no limit to how many times you give. They even buy it in a jar!"

He found the man's behavior strange and slightly off. But he continued nodding. This man probably did not have a lot and he seemed eager to chum with him. Still he didn't say much. A few moments later another attendant came and called him.

"Jared Nomak? We're ready for you now,"

He gave a short cough and got up to follow the attendant. After a brief thought he turned around and raised his fist to the man still seated in a brotherly gesture. The man waved back in the same way. _Be strong._ Then he turned and followed the attendant. She led Nomak down a hall, walking and looking at his file simultaneously, a pen in hand.

"In the past twelve months, have you gotten a tattoo or undergone any ear, skin or body piercing?" she asked.

"No,"

"Where did you get that scar on your chin?"

"Childhood accident," Cough

"You say that you don't have any immediate next of kin, is that right?" she asked.

"Not that I'm in contact with." While he responded, Nomak turned to look at the security camera as they passed, then at the guard stationed in the hallway.

"Nobody to call, in case of an emergency?" the attendant asked skeptically.

"No one," Nomak confirmed. He glanced down a hallway slick with blood. A few people were mopping, vainly trying to scrub the blood off the floor. Something within him stirred, like a beast coming out of slumber. He held it down and continued walking. Cough.

"No family?" the attendant asked again.

"I told you, no," Nomak answered. Then more concerned: "Are you telling me I can't be a donor?"

The attendant tapped her pen on her lower lip thoughtfully. "That depends. We came up with some…unusual results on your blood test." They approached their destination as another guard got up from a nearby desk to escort them. He opened the door and allowed them to walk through. Inside was an antechamber for another room. The attendant walked over to a console and punched in the entry code. "Let me explain. Your blood has a very rare phenotype. One we haven't encountered before."

Nomak wasn't listening anymore. The door behind him closed with a clang. He looked around the room with growing surprise. It was not what he expected. At the end of it stood a chair, and next to it was another man prepping gear Nomak had never seen before. It didn't look all that inviting.

"What are you talking about?" That was as far as he got, before the security guard behind him grabbed him roughly by the arm and began dragging him forward. "Who are you?" he asked the panic in his voice clear.

"Sit down" the attendant commanded. The guard pushed him roughly into the chair.

"What is this?" Nomak looked at their faces, his eyes darting between them, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Appropriately scared.

The man with the equipment finally spoke. "This is a good news/bad news scenario Jared," he intoned a smile dawning on his fanged mouth as if he and the attendant shared a private joke. "Good news for us…bad news for you." He reached to the table and attached a device to his hand. Six-inch needles now sprouted from each finger, connected by tubes to a machine already hall full of blood. The man turned it on and tested the suction. Grinning he approached his victim who had taken to bowing his head and whimpering unintelligibly.

Nomak had intended to keep the act going for a bit longer; maybe let them try their procedure on him before moving. But as the truth of the situation was all too well-known to him, he was unable to control himself. Within himself, something yearned to be let out, to be let loose. Why keep it contained? His whimpering, which he mentally congratulated himself on its realism, slowly turned to chuckles. He leaned his head back and those chuckles became outright laughter. The man stopped in confusion and looked from Nomak to the attendant and back to Nomak. All eyes were focused on their victim who was inexplicably laughing.

Nomak's chin began to inch apart, like a wound re-opening. His skin went deadly white and veins were visible all along his face. His eyes gleamed unnaturally and found the attendant's now worried gaze. With a roar that seemed impossible to come from him, Nomak grabbed her by the throat as he sprang from the chair. Then he bit her and blood splattered on the wall behind them. The other vampire recoiled at the sight. The guard pulled out his pistol and shot Nomak in the back four times. Nomak dropped the course and turned towards him his entire mouth bloody. With a roar of rage, he slapped the gun out of the guard's hand. Then picking him up, he chucked him with one hand into a wall, hard enough to shatter the tiles and put the guard out of commission. The other vampire used Nomak's distraction to spring away from the room to the console on the far side. Panicky he tried to input the code to open the door. He never got to finish as Nomak grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against a wall. He paused momentarily and focused on a camera pointed directly at his face. He looked at it, primal fury imprinted across his face. Then as he realized what it was, he spoke in his own language.

"Vampires! I hate…vampires." Then he opened his mouth and the vampire received the final darkness.

---

The Renegade found the structure he was looking for without much difficulty. In a city so large and decrepit abandoned buildings isolated from human society were not in short supply. It was merely a matter of finding one with the right interior configuration. For the Renegade that building was a broken down warehouse on the edge of the old industrial sector. It was sealed on the street level not just with boards but with masonry as it had been the site of several drug related crimes. After a while the city had chosen merely to bar all access until funds could be appropriated to tear it down. But given the rest of the derelict buildings in the area no one was in any hurry. An even greater piece of luck was the top floor had once been owned by an eccentric performer who had converted not one but three of the offices on that floor into recording booths and as such outfitted them with soundproofing and thick panes of glass. The performer had claimed he needed absolute silence to compose his genius. The Renegade had other uses for the space. Digging holes in their walls about three inches in diameter at each corner top and bottom, the Renegade inserted a laser tripmine in each. The tripmines could be used in more than one way. They could emit a series of blue lasers at random angles which, when tripped would detonate the device. Or it could emit red lasers, the intensity of which would shred anything passing through them. They were mostly used by Sterilizers as traps and the red shearing lasers were the default setting. It was in this manner that the Renegade turned the soundproofed rooms into cages for the prey he meant to study. They were deactivated now, but with a simple command from the Renegade's wrist computer or the automated monitoring program he entered on the portable science module, the tripmines would instantly project a cage of lasers in each of the rooms. With lasers running on all the walls and the ceiling, nothing living would get out of that space unless the Renegade wished it. He placed a secondary set on the floors of the makeshift cells. While the wall lasers would be on as soon as specimen were collected and stored, the floor lasers would only turn on if the captive decided to try tunneling out. It would pretty much be a death sentence but in the Renegade's eyes collecting new specimens was less of a hassle than chasing down escaped ones and dealing with any witnesses.

Having completed the holding cages the Renegade next set up the portable science module. The current power cell would last seventy-two hours. Hopefully this was enough time to complete his mission. Its scientific functions were hardwired and ready to go. However it was the security features the Renegade made sure were functioning correctly. He set up an independent routine for monitoring the cages so he wouldn't have to worry about prey escaping when he was out. Next he set up some sensors around the space to secure his base from intruders. On this he needed to override the stock programming and enter his own. If any life form not carrying a tracker keyed to the monitor entered this space, the sensor closest to it would self destruct and vaporize everything within eight feet. If something was able to get past these explosions, the science module itself would self destruct and take out the whole city block with it. The Renegade was taking no chances of anyone or anything learning the extent of his activities. The part he was hard-pressed to override was the default safety lock that prevented the self destruct function being activated by a fellow yautja. But the Renegade was fairly sure the other yautja on this planet was longer any comrade of his. He wasn't even sure whether he could be called a yautja anymore. He made sure his own tracker was acknowledged by the computer then activated the programming. Finally he activated the machine's tracking function to begin searching for the missing predator. The science module could detect yautja life forms in a range of up to eight miles. It could also search for their life trackers in the same range or use existing communication mediums such as radio and microwaves to broaden this range almost indefinitely. The missing hunter's life signs had disappeared and could not be tracked by the ship from orbit and so it was assumed the hunter had moved or been taken underground. If he had been taken down to a hardened bunker the science module would have little chance of success. But the Renegade believed in being thorough and the machine would constantly search the frequencies even when he could not.

Only when all the preparations were complete did the Renegade turn to his objective. He used the module to display the last readings of the hunter. Strange life signs the Elders had said. They were strange indeed. Body heat had dropped considerably. Body composition was different. Muscle and bone mass was changed. The deviant biochemical readings were the worst. It did not seem like these readings could belong to a normal living thing. The Renegade was convinced his quarry no longer was a normal living thing.

During the long periods between his hunts, the Renegade had more than once contemplated the nature of the vampire prey. True their thermal images were greatly reduced as a result of their lower body heat. But their forms and their actions were still human. It seemed unlikely that evolution could have produced such vast differences in contrast with such stark similarities. Even more unlikely was their coexistence. If vampires were superior to humans, natural selection dictated that vampires would wipe the humans out. But this had not occurred. Clearly humans were food for these creatures even if blood was the only thing they craved. So a supposedly stronger species was actually forced to rely on a weaker one. No, this did not seem like a natural arrangement at all. The vampires' weaknesses were even more of a puzzlement. Why should their flesh be so violently allergic to a particular metal or plant? The Renegade (not to mention the clan scientists) had analyzed the chemical compositions of both silver and garlic very thoroughly and did not arrive at any particularly toxic or violently reactive results. And to not stand the rays of their own sun? No, the more the Renegade thought on this matter the more he was convinced that vampires were not a natural occurrence. Nor could they be some spontaneous mutation because they occurred too uniformly. When he had first encountered them, the Renegade had considered them parasites. Now he thought he had been slightly off. They were not parasites. They were a virus. This may have been true in a metaphorical sense as well but the Renegade was interested in more practical matters, namely a biological virus. Vampires were infected humans, humans that had somehow been changed by an unknown virus and given some impressive strengths at the cost of some terrible weaknesses. He had scanned the vampire prey he hunted with more than just thermal vision. His X-ray and custom sonic imaging had revealed the basic body structure of vampires to be nearly identical to that of humans. The only visible difference was that certain organs seemed to be less functional, some to the point of being vestigial in vampires. That and the front teeth elongated into fangs. But perhaps a more detailed analysis was needed.

The Renegade chattered in impatience. He was no scientist. He was a hunter. Analyzing some interesting biology was not his task. But he could not be as blind as the elders. He knew vampires were somehow involved with the disappearance of the missing hunter. And he knew that the most efficient way to find him was to unlock the vampire mystery. First things first. He had to check just how vampires infected healthy humans and exactly how the bodies changed. He did not wish to chase phantoms after all. If the life sign changes between a healthy human and an infected one did not have some correlation between the strange life signs exhibited by the missing predator then he should have to find some other way of finding him. And find him he will. One way or another. Dead, alive or… infected.

Once his base was secure and the cells ready, the Renegade began searching the city for his prey. It was somewhat strange setting out to capture his prey as opposed to merely killing it. To that extent he had loaded his net gun with non-lethal cartridges. The resulting mesh would enfold prey and bind them tightly but stop short of actually slicing through them. Knowing vampires' higher pain tolerance and healing ability the Renegade had modified existing razor wire nets as opposed to using the plain mesh non-lethal cartridges usually utilized. He would've acquired some garlic substance and coated the nets but he wasn't yet sure how much garlic vampires could take before it killed them.

During his last hunt and from the reports of other successful hunters vampires often congregated in "safe houses", places where they could be with more of their kind, lure unsuspecting humans for food and rest during the day. These places were marked with vampire glyphs, signs which actually formed some ancient vampire dialect. The Renegade had several examples on file so he had some idea of what to look for. Of course he could easily scan the streets for thermal images far below the norm. But knowing the location of a vampire meeting place would be useful if he needed more "volunteers". Also the Renegade knew there were humans that served the vampires and they were often around safe houses as well. The Renegade did not want to attract unwanted attention. It was more likely that a human abducted from such a place would be not be as missed as vampires tended to hide themselves and their business from human authorities.

There. The Renegade's view focused on a seemingly human thermal image that was far paler than the rest. From its movements it seemed to be alone. Making sure the cloaking was fully functional the Renegade leapt over rooftops after the vampire. He followed it for three blocks before it finally ducked inside a building. The Renegade was surprised to see what had to be a vampire mark clearly defined on the wall above the door. The vampires were marking their buildings with paint that would stand out in infrared? Why was it so easy? Then the Renegade realized that while it was easy for him who primary saw in heat vision, normal humans did not perceive that end of the visible spectrum. So it might actually be hidden from them. He had his mask take a reading of the wall and analyze it in the range of the spectrum humans could see. Though the mask did not display it (a pointless action since yautja naturally saw in the infrared) it did confirm that the marking was not visible at those ranges. It occurred to him that this could be because of the human hunter that was plaguing them and the Renegade felt a thrill of excitement, followed by profound regret. A being that could instill such fear in creatures such as this would've given him a worthy hunt. He resolved that if he either had enough time at the end of this hunt or if he ever encountered the human hunter again, he would challenge him in what should be a formidable battle. But for now he refocused on the task at hand. He needed to capture a vampire. He would return the following night to catch a human. He patiently watched the entrance. He would prefer a single prey for the simplicity of not having to deal with witnesses but if an opportunity did not present itself soon, he would have to chance a larger group. He needed to get the vampire back to his base before the sun rose and wasted his efforts.

He did not have to wait long. Two dim heat signatures soon left the safe house, crossing the street and heading away. The Renegade clicked in satisfaction as he leapt after them. He knew there would be an alley a block from their current position and it seemed like the vampires would continue in that direction. There seemed to be a male and a female, possibly a couple. The Renegade decided to capture the female since human females tended to be less aggressive. He did not know whether that entirely applied to vampires but since most of what he had seen of vampire society still seemed close to humans and given his hypothesis that vampires were infected humans, it seemed a likely guess. Leaping from roof to roof, he arrived at the alley before his quarry. Dropping down to a fire escape ledge, he prepared to activate his vocal mimicry. He had some stored prey sounds he hoped would attract them.

---

The two vampires were walking arms linked. The club had been fun but the man was looking forward to some private time where he could do a lot more than just grind. The woman had other things in mind.

"Come on, one measly human. I miss luring these sheep," the woman was saying.

"We had enough back at the club. And I was thinking…" the man responded suggestively.

"That's what you always think about," the woman said exasperated. "Come on, it'll be fun."

Just as they were passing an alley a child's voice suddenly called out "Hello? I'm lost. Help me"

The woman turned to the man with a mischievous grin. The man shrugged wearily.

"Where are you?" the woman called out moving into the alley. The man followed behind.

"Over here. Please help me!" The voice called out again.

"How come I don't smell anything?" the man whispered. The woman shushed him.

"Come out. We'll help you. We can find your parents," the woman said. Though she was annoyed with the man she had to admit this was a little strange. Where was the kid? Kids calling for help did not hide in alleys. And what kid called for help in a dark alley at four in the morning?

"Come on kid, don't mess around," the man shouted as he moved past a fire escape. "You want to go home or not?"

"Want some candy?" the voice asked. Up until now it had been in front of them. Now it seemed like it was coming from behind them. The sound itself was also strange. It sounded more garbled and… electronic.

The woman whirled, the first threads of fear working their way through her body. The man just looked around in confusion. Suddenly three red dots appeared on his chest right above his heart. They moved slightly. The woman's eyes widened.

"What?" the man asked. He looked down. "What the fu-"

That was all he got out before a blue ball of energy slammed in his chest and exploded out the other side. The woman shrieked and recoiled back. The man's expression of surprise lasted exactly three seconds, the time in which the rest of his body crumbled into ash.

The woman backpedaled as fast as she could. Before it occurred to her to turn around and make a break for it, something came at her at blinding speed. The net threw her back a few more feet, already encompassing her before she even hit the ground. She pushed against it but succeeded only in cutting her hands on the sharp mesh. She shrieked as the wire tightened and tightened around her, forcing her into a fetal position. It did not stop until it dug in her skin all over her body. She was effectively immobilized. She could thrash but every movement made the wire dig deeper. It wasn't silver but the pain was still incredible. From her viewpoint she saw a shape leap in front of her. A moment later the shape materialized into some kind of creature. Though she could not see all of it what she did see made her scream out partly in anger, mostly in terror. She was vaguely away of a kind of clicking chattering sound before something hit her in the head, hard. Then she was aware no more.

The Renegade was in a foul mood by the time he returned to his lair. Lifting the female vampire had been no challenge to his strength. Leaping from rooftop to rooftop with her in his arms was another story all together. He could not simply attach a line and drag her as her weight would probably force the mesh deeper and deeper and he was sure there was a limit to how much even vampires could take. Not to mention the vampire's screams would attract unwanted attention. Add to that her waking at unexpected intervals and struggling to break free and the trip back which should've been completed in half an hour took at least two. He was beginning to worry about the sunset. He didn't know what he'd do if all the effort he had spent dragging this pathetic creature back was wasted by her turning to ash on his doorstep, but any humans around would surely not be safe from his rage, honor and mission objectives or no. Luckily with a final forceful shove, he threw her down the roof access hatch he used as his primary entrance and closed the door behind him just as the sun's first rays began to illuminate the outside world.

The female vampire had struggled the most just before he had taken her in, with enough force to actually begin tearing at the net, despite the considerable damage it did in return. For all their other shortcomings, the vampires' strength and endurance was truly remarkable. Looking at her sliced and wheezing form the Renegade was certain an ordinary human would've bled to death long ago. But this creature kept on living. He did notice however that the wounds were not healing as quickly. There were limits to their abilities after all. Taking a moment to massage his arms (due to the constant struggling, the net strands had starting digging into his arms as well though they hadn't broken skin) he picked her up again and carried her to a waiting cell. Dumping her on the floor he activated his wrist computer and keyed the release command on the net.

Nothing happened. The Renegade blinked and tried again. Still nothing. She had actually damaged the net to the point of breaking its mechanism. The wonder he might've felt at the continued demonstrations of vampire strength was cut short by his exasperation. With a click of annoyance he popped his wrist blades, hooked them on the mesh and began slicing it open. It was tedious work as the nets were not made to be cut that way (or rather at all) but eventually the thinner mesh gave way to the superior edge of his blades and at last he was able to open it, drag his prey out and toss the net away. He did not fail to notice that during all of this the female made no more efforts to escape. This puzzled him. Surely the cuts by the mesh which was not silver or coated with garlic, could not have broken her so completely, deep and numerous though they may be. He examined her form more carefully. She was still alive, though her thermal image was paler than ever. Checks with his more specialized vision modes confirmed that though the wounds had stopped bleeding, they remained mostly open. Her head lolled slightly and she gave a weak groan. Once the net was completely removed, she gave a weak kick and an arm flailed across his shoulder once. Other than that she seemed incapable of moving, much as she might want to.

The Renegade stepped back out of the booth and activated the wall lasers, though he wondered if there was any point. His musings on the matter offered two possible explanations. Either the damage the net had inflicted (intensified by her efforts he would've added if he was given to making that sort of defensive justifications) taxed her system beyond the point of recovery or this was somehow a normal occurrence for her. His reasoning for the latter was based on his knowledge of other nocturnal creatures he had hunted. There was a certain species of giant reptile on a desert moon near the homeworld that was known to be active only at night and exhibited a marked lethargy during the day. This was remarkable from a scientific point of view as the reptile's cold-bloodedness seemed to be at odds (and yet unaffecting) the creature's behavior, as it would come out only at night when temperatures dropped and remained underground during the hot days. It made for a rather boring and predictable hunt but now the Renegade was reminded of this. As far as such things went, vampires were most decisively nocturnal. Perhaps they too had a state of near hibernation during the day.

The hunter was perfectly content to let this creature sleep all it wanted today. It would make for less trouble while he was out capturing a human. The Renegade had decided to capture one during daylight hours partly in light of this convenient development, partly because in daylight he expected no interference from vampires when he took one of their servants. Turning to go he realized he had forgotten to implant a life tracker in his subject. He went to the science module and after taking a surgical blade out of his medkit, selected the smallest model available. The tracker was a small cylinder about half an inch long and a quarter thick with one end elongated to a point and the other sprouting three curved prongs. He went back to the booth, deactivated the lasers and knelt by the female. She was on her side curled up away from him and breathing shallowly. He inspected her cuts (slightly more healed but still not as much as he had expected) then looked for a suitable place to insert the tracker. On yautja it was done near the heart. However he did not know enough about vampire anatomy or how resistant this one would be given the damage she sustained. He therefore opened a cut just below the rib cage, careful not to cut too deeply and nick any organs, just to be safe. He inserted the tracker activated it, and let it burrow just a little deeper before finalizing its position. He then immediately keyed the module which began displaying information directly to his mask. After adjusting the information with what he knew, the module began acquiring data in earnest. He stepped back and noticed the cut he reopened was not sealing. Worried, he queried the module, which confirmed that the life form was in a weakened state and could not form the clots necessary to staunch the flow. On why this was the module could not provide any information. On treatments, it suggested a greatly reduced and diluted shot of the adrenal stimulant he carried followed by an application of the sealing solution.

The Renegade chattered in annoyance. This creature was proving to be more trouble than it was worth. He considered just letting it die. But he quickly realized that not only would that waste the effort he had made in capturing it but it was also dishonorable to simply cut it open and leave it to bleed to death. Torture and experimentation on weaker creatures was the way of Bad Bloods. What he had done so far was only excusable because it had the purpose of knowledge of an enemy. There were some Elders who might disagree even with that. But he had no interest in those opinions. Because if the missing predator had been turned it was now more than a disgraced hunter. It was an enemy, an active threat. And the Renegade needed to know what he was up against. Therefore this creature must live for the time being. And when its purpose was fulfilled the Renegade would end its life quickly and with no malice, according to what his honor demanded.

He moved quickly back to the module. One plus to this whole affair was that the module had already generated the substances he needed without having to take any from his medkit. It even had a smaller needle with which to administer the stimulant as the Renegade would not have risked using his own for more than one reason. Taking the shot and the small dish of glowing blue paste he hurried back to the cell. A startled exclamation rose from him as he entered. The female's thermals were now at their palest. It was now or never. Turning her on her back as he knelt, he quickly plunged the stimulant shot into her chest. The result was immediate. The vampire's eyes opened wide, and a long shriek of anguish tore from her throat. It ran continuously until silenced by her loss of air. Her arms flailed and her legs kicked in earnest now. The Renegade had to grab her by the throat or else she would've reared up and bit him. A further scream was thus also choked off. The tradeoff was that her fists pummeled him from all sides and her strength even with all the disadvantages of her current predicament made the blows sting. He applied the sealant as best he could, first to the cut he had made then to the other ones across her chest that seemed more severe. Some of it splattered on the ground due to her thrashing and his patience finally ran out when she stuck a particularly vicious blow across his mask that actually dislodged it slightly. With a roar of fury that overpowered any vocalizations she was making, he lifted her by the throat and slammed her head down so forcibly the floor cracked. Her movements immediately ceased and the Renegade leapt to his feet only vaguely aware that his wrist blades were out. His rage at this cursed creature soon turned inward and he blamed himself for not having foreseen this possibility. Now for all his efforts he might've killed her after all. Adjusting his mask (his warrior's pride stinging more than his face) he switching to his x-ray vision mode and examined her skull. It was slightly cracked but as he watched, the fissures were slowly shrinking. It was still not the rapid healing he had seen vampires capable of but she would live. A check of her tracker confirmed her abnormal vital signs were stable as much as the module was able to determine. Satisfied (and more than ready to move on with his mission) the Renegade activated the lasers, closed the soundproofed door and left to hunt a human.


	4. Chapter 3

Author's Note: My sincere thanks to everyone who's been reading, favourite-ing and/or story alert-ing my little project here… and to the ONE reviewer who bothered to write a few words, **Blakkstone **extra heartfelt thanks. If anyone else could spare a few minutes to let me know what they think, my appreciation would not be squandered. If not, I hope you'll at least enjoy this next installment.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

The alley was somehow always shadowy. Even on a bright day decrepit buildings cast blankets of dark. But it was more than that. The alley itself seemed to be permeated by a layer of gloom and even though it was late afternoon, in this alley no one would mistake the space as merely a gap between old structures. The stench of alcohol, drugs, urine and sometimes worse things clung to the bricks and pavement tighter than a python's grasp. It was here in his former haunt, where Jimmy White a.k.a the White Jumper stood his ground.

Facing him looking royally pissed were an assorted collection of hoods he had once called his brothers. Chains hung off them at various points some connected to piercings hidden beneath their ragged clothing. Knives and semi automatics were visible in the waistbands of some while nail studded bats and larger firearms were displayed in the hands of others. A guy named Big Earl had actually brought a sawed-off and was holding it casually. But Jimmy had no illusions. Earl rolled with the craziest of them. He'd be watching that shotgun.

In the center of the overly aggravated bunch of thugs stood a taller bald man, undoubtedly the leader. Half the man's face was covered in intricate tattoos that might've been dragons or snakes. Probably snakes, though to be honest neither Jimmy nor anyone else that worked for the man they simply called Cage felt like looking at him close enough to double-check. Even if Cage had led a normal life his mug would've been anything but appealing. A large jaw had once defined this man's face in combination with his sunken beady eyes had given him a bulldog-like appearance. Once he had half his face inked his appearance grew even more unsettling. He reminded Jimmy of that Batman villain Tommy Lee Jones had once played in a movie, Two-Face. But unlike that comic book clown, Cage didn't give you no fifty-fifty chance, nor did he laugh maniacally or make corny jokes. He just pulled a nine and capped your ass, faster than you could say "lead salad". And that's if you were lucky and he wasn't up to using his knife to slice your extremities off bit by bit.

Jimmy was still nervous. He knew his newfound protection could still be revoked if he pissed Cage off too much. He cleared his throat. Up until a few months he had been rolling with Cage's crew, mostly a lower level street enforcer, not into the big jobs yet, just running some protection rackets or the occasional drug deal. He had done some mugging on the side when Cage wasn't looking and otherwise generally just followed orders. He was by all accounts small-time. Until a couple of months back when he had tried mugging the wrong person. The chick had seemed harmless enough, petite, possibly Asian, nice ass and had some of the thinnest purse straps Jimmy had seen in this neighbourhood in a long time. But what should've been a regular snatching and maybe a little playing had turned out quite differently when the cute little bitch turned out to have fangs. Honest to God fangs. Jimmy had nearly gotten his throat ripped out. The only thing that had saved him was a man named Samuel. A man who was really not a man at all. He had delivered him from the crazy Asian bitch only to show him the real underworld. A world where creatures sucked your blood and left you a dried husk. A world where a small Asian kitten could throw a man like Cage through a wall with no effort. A world where ordinary people could be and were played like chumps daily. A world where _they _ruled. A world he could be a part of if he would only serve. Why someone as powerful as Samuel had bothered with a punk like him Jimmy had no idea nor any wish of contemplating it longer than a minute. Better to serve than be served… for dinner.

So the White Jumper moved up from street thug to vampire pet and was branded as such. Familiars in general, were not required to cease their daily activities especially if those could be used to the advantage of their master. But in Jimmy's case, Samuel had no wish to waste time with muggings or extortion. So Jimmy was to resign from his little gang.

Easier said than done. The old adage about how you don't get out of the life seemed to be true as Jimmy now faced a furious Cage and his flunkies.

"So you're just gonna leave?" Cage asked his eyes boring into Jimmy. Before, this alone would've reduced him to a cowering mess on the floor. But compared with Samuel's gaze Cage might as well have been a little puppy. _A still dangerous puppy_, Jimmy reminded himself.

"I told you man, I got a new job now. I can't roll with you no more." Jimmy said trying to keep his voice even."

"Really?" Cage sneered. "Well look at that! Jimmy Boy here is moving up in the world and forgetting his debts."

"I'm serious man! Look," Jimmy raised his wrist so they could all see the glyph imprinted here. "I work for _them_ now. You hurt me, they come after you."

He could see by the shocked look that came over Cage's face that he recognized the mark or at least what it meant. So did some of the other thugs.

Cage however recovered quickly. His hand snaked out and seized Jimmy's wrist pulling him in. A large knife appeared suddenly in his other hand.

"Why you little shit! You think just cuz you got some fancy ink on you, you're gonna run out on me?" Cage roared. He brought the knife closer. "How about I carve _my_ fucking name into your chest so you know who you really work for?"

"You think it's a fake?" Jimmy laughed shakily. "Try it. Samuel'll tear your head off with his bare hands."

"Oh yeah?" Cage asked bringing the knife to Jimmy's throat in the blink of an eye. It wasn't vampire speed but it was still shocking. "How about I tear your head off now and worry about your faggot vampire later. Think I'm scared boyo? I've killed those bloodsucking pricks before."

At this Jimmy paled and Cage gave a cruel laugh. "Yeah how bout that you weak sack of shit? You thought poor ol' Cage he's just a human, he ain't got shit against these freaks huh? Well too bad bucko. You bet wrong. And I got no more use for a sniveling punk like you."

He was about to draw the knife across Jimmy's throat when the thug's head nearest to him exploded in a flash of blue light. Cage's head whipped around just as a spinning thing flew out of nowhere and severed both his arms. The knife and Jimmy both fell to the ground the latter screaming and thrashing to get the bloody arm off him. Cage looked at his stumps in shock. Around him the thugs were pulling their weapons and firing randomly. Screams enveloped the alley.

More flashes of light and more bodies fell with heads or parts of their chests vaporized. The spinning thing made a comeback as it lifted Big Earl off the ground and pinned him to the wall, the shotgun clattering on the ground. There was a thud nearby. Cage turned, still in shock and saw a… thing shimmer into existence. It was tall seven feet at least. Its head was huge and covered by some kind of mask with what seemed like dreadlocks sprouting from its skull. There were all manner of things, weapons attached to its body. Huge blades erupted from its right gauntlet and it roared like a demon. Cage screamed, stepped back and tripped. If he had been in any position to examine what he tripped on he would've seen it was his own arm.

--

The Renegade had once again lucked out. After leaving the female vampire to recover he had gone out in search of a familiar to capture. But this gathering of humans had drawn his attention. His earlier mistakes still stinging he had longed to jump down and make short work of these, something that would undoubtedly have calmed him down. His urge to kill had been countered by his urge to continue the mission and for a while he had stood there on the roof, invisible but indecisive how to proceed while the conflict between the gang members (for there was no doubt in his mind these humans were of the bad blood sort) played out. It seemed they were all turning on one of their number. His translator chip had still been on so their conversation was being interpreted even as the hunter wrested with a decision. That decision had been blissfully made for him when the lone member held up his wrist. Though the Renegade could not see the mark from his position he was immediately interested, his entire attention focused on this being and what it was saying. The large one facing him (probably the leader) suddenly grabbed him and threatened him with a knife. The wrist still seemed to be a point of attention for them. Further exchange was made but it was not long until the Renegade heard the magic word. Vampire. So it was true. The lone member had shown a vampire mark of ownership, to which the others had reacted negatively. A vampire's servant. Just what he was looking for. And the other gang members must be eliminated. Perfect. The Renegade's objectives had been unified. But now it seemed like the leader was getting ready to kill him. This would not be allowed. He took out his disk, aimed carefully and threw. At the same time he had already targeted the gang member closest to him with his plasmacaster and fired.

The result was immediate chaos. The leader stared stupidly at his stumps while the rest of the pitiful gang members fired everywhere but at a target. His disk streaked back to his hand and he immediately hurtled it towards the next target. He had been on enough hunts to recognize human weaponry and the weapon this prey was holding was enough of a threat at close range to warrant immediate dispatch. Having whittled them down further with his plasmacaster, the Renegade jumped down and decloaked. Finishing them off would be have to be more up close and personal.

Most of the survivors were too terrified to do anything but be cut down. One of braver ones swung a wooden object with what appeared to be metal barbs on the end. The Renegade met his attack easily, merely grabbing the bat below the barbs with his left hand while he drove his wristblades into the man's gut. For all the exhilaration and challenge vampires could give him, a small sense of satisfaction could still be gained by how easily these humans could be dispatched.

Another human managed to get a shot off that actually clanged off his shoulder armor. Partly amused partly surprised the Renegade merely looked at him. The plasmacaster instantly swiveled to point at him and the targeting lasers appeared on his forehead. The terrified human was immobilized. As the three telltale dots moved from his head to his shoulder, the mask's vocal mimicry activated and a distorted human scream issued from the hunter.

"That all you got punk?!"

The thug shrieked and, broken from his trance, raised the gun again. The plasmacaster fired before he even got halfway up and his shoulder vaporized. The rest of the arm dropped with a meaty thud. The goon continued screaming as the Renegade rushed forward and punched him in the stomach with his left hand, hard. The human immediately doubled over, all breath knocked out of him. Chattering, the Renegade drove his wristblades into the back of the thug's neck as he had done to others countless times before, the spinal column fitted in neatly between each blade. With a roar he yanked with all his might as was rewarded with his new trophy. The rest of the corpse fell over, blood sprouting from the ragged stump. The Renegade roared again then looked around.

There was no one else alive except for the leader and his true quarry which had shuffled away as fast as he could and was now hiding behind a dumpster, no doubt hoping he'd be forgotten. The yautja calmly retrieved his disk, unpinning the corpse of the late Big Earl and walked unhurriedly towards the leader who was looking at him with wide eyes and had not moved from where he'd fallen. He would bleed to death soon. The Renegade could almost see the life seeping from him. Retracting his wristblades he turned towards his target.

Jimmy watched in terror as the…monster slaughtered his former "brothers". The beast was like a freak of nature. Blades that looked right out some dark age fantasy horror and was that a fucking _laser_ on his shoulder? It was a goddamn alien. Jimmy was shaking all over. _Just hide and maybe it'll pass_, he thought then mentally sneered at himself despite his growing fear. _Yeah and if you close your eyes he won't see you, you dumbshit_.

But it did see him. After retrieving what looked like the worlds biggest ninja star, he stepped over Cage's body (_Cage man, who up until a few moments ago had seemed all but invincible_) with just the barest glance and started towards him. And Jimmy realized he was gonna die and nothing on this earth human or otherwise was gonna stop this thing from tearing his head off like he did Seth's. The monster loomed over him the dripping severed head clutched tightly in its left hand. It chattered briefly then its right fist came down and Jimmy sank into blackness.

--

The Renegade returned to his hideout just as the sun went down. He hadn't bothered netting the captured human who had awakened only once during the trek back across the roofs. He dumped him in the second cage, activated its lasers and went to the science module. The human trophy's skin was beginning to decay and he would need to clean the skull soon. Taking a blade from the module he began cutting away chunks of skin pausing only to clean the blood with a suction tube. When this was finished he deposited the cut skin into a vaporization container and set about polishing his new trophy. It was likely the only human one he would take on this hunt and the battle to get it had obviously been no challenge. But it was a nice break from playing scientist. He would have to implant the human with a tracker and then check on the female vampire. But polishing the trophy had a certain comforting complacency and the Renegade allowed himself this brief respite. However twin signals suddenly received soon drew his attention back to the cages.

The first had been a warning from the subroutine managing the lasers. A captive had been prodding at the wall in between the lasers too long. The tripmines were also equipped with motion sensors. If something tried to get in between the beams the array would reset itself at random positions and anything caught in the lasers new position would obviously be sliced. This was precisely what had occurred. And since the human was still unconscious that left only one prisoner to worry about. The second warning confirmed this. It was from the module's tracker monitor. The alert merely said "signal lost".

Alarmed the Renegade rushed to the cage and opened the door. The female was on the floor clutching her left hand. The fingers and part of the thumb were missing. The wounds were cauterized. He also saw the previous gashes had healed with the exception of the one on her side where the tracker had been implanted. That tracker was now on the floor. The Renegade chatter in anger and the female's head whipped to look at him. She bared her fangs and hissed.

"Clever freak aren't you? Nice work with the laser trick. But I don't like being tagged," she sneered indicating the tracker on the floor.

The Renegade was livid. He hadn't counted on his subjects removing their trackers. A human couldn't do it. Not without the proper tools not to mention few had the courage to operate on themselves. But apparently this creature had simply reached in with her bare hand and plucked it out. The vampire seemed to read his thoughts.

"Surprised I did that aren't you? Go ahead try it again. I'll just pull it out. I don't know what the hell you are but you're gonna find out we aren't cattle. You want livestock, get a human. Down here, we're the hunters."

As soon as his mask translated this the Renegade burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. This creature was annoying, to be sure. He would've liked to kill her several times over for the trouble she kept causing. But her little speech had just cracked him up. The vampire however, apparently did not like being laughed at.

"What the fuck is so goddamn funny?" she hissed.

Despite the repulsiveness the thought of communicating with this creature brought him, the Renegade activated the two way translation and chattered a reply. A moment later a slightly distorted mechanical voice issued from his mask.

"Next time the tracker will be planted deeper. And your healing will prevent you from removing it unaided."

The female's surprise at him replying was quickly overcome by fury.

"Just try it!" she spat.

The Renegade obliged. After deactivating the lasers he took out his speargun and extended it. The muzzle end split in two halves supported by metal springs to allow for the wider "tri-shots" and near the middle an upper "scope" like portion rose while a butt and trigger lowered beneath. The result could not be mistaken for anything other than a weapon.

The female shrank back and hissed. Then apparently deciding she had no other alternative she sprung forward. The Renegade met her charge with a solid forward kick. The female crumpled around his foot and fell back on her ass as expected but to him it felt more like hitting a wall than a body. He quickly aimed the speargun at her hand and fired. The bolt pierced her hand and stuck it to the wall. She screamed in surprise and her first impulse was to jerk her hand away- which did nothing but tear her hand even more. He fired again before she could reach with her good hand and pinned that one as well. She was now effectively pinned to the wall. He fired two more spears, one in each leg for good measure and once she was immobilized picked up the discarded tracker, took out the surgical blade and moved in. He had intended to implant the tracker with her conscious to demonstrate how ineffective her efforts to hinder his plan would be but even pinned she was struggling too much. And the spears were not silver. She could soon tear away and heal without difficulty. So he cocked his fist back and hit her several times. Finally she lay still, stunned. At last able to continue, the Renegade reinserted the tracker making sure it was deep and close to her heart so even if she did somehow locate it she would not risk damage to her heart by taking it out manually. Once this was done, he took out the spears pinning her limbs, retracted the spear gun and stepped back. He knew he should move on to implanting the human with a tracker but he was curious to see how she'd react once she woke up.

He didn't have to wait long. He had just finished reloading the spears and reactivating the lasers when she awoke with a hiss. In an instant she was up on her feet and ready to charge. The Renegade watched in fascination. The female's face was contorted in savage fury and for a few tense seconds he believed she would charge him regardless of the lasers that would take her life. And she almost did. She sprang to within an inch of the beams before stopping short. Her eyes finally registered the threat and though her fury was now contained it was not diminished.

"Bastard!" she spat. The Renegade did not bother replying. He merely turned to go. But she was not yet finished. "I'll dig this one out too. You just wait you son of a bitch! I can feel it near my heart. It doesn't matter how deep you've buried it. I'll get it out! You hear me??"

The Renegade stopped. Was she bluffing? He could not afford to be constantly delayed by having to re implant the tracker over and over. He was answered when another alert was issued to his mask's HUD by the science module. "Subject's corporal integrity breached." He rushed back to her cell. She was indeed digging her fingers in her side, gasping as the blood ran down her waist. The Renegade could not believe it. He chattered a command that was quickly translated.

"Stop."

The female looked up at him defiant, her eyes burning. "Or you'll do what? Kill me? I think you'd have done that already if you wanted to."

"True. But the tracker is right by your heart. If you dig your hand into your heart you will die without my help."

"Better dead then cattle. Or some fucking alien's science project," she snorted. She smiled at him sweetly thought the smile soon turned into a grimace. "If I die at least I'll die knowing I ruined your day."

The Renegade could not believe this. She was actually resisting him in a way he was having trouble countering. Every instinct told him to kill her at once. She did in fact act more like a warrior than prey. Perhaps there was something serious to her earlier shouts after all. Despite the urgency of his mission the Renegade yearned to see how far she would go, whether she would actually carve out her own heart rather than submit to him. _But that would take too long_, another part of him cried. And was he truly going to allow himself to be defeated by this petty thing? No. The Renegade did not admit defeat. He would simply have to rely on something other than his weapons. He would have to use reason. He considered carefully then chattered his reply.

"You realize you are under my power. You know you could die, either by my hand or your own. But there are fates worse than death. A future of pain could await you."

This was a lie of course. He was prohibited by his honour from torturing a prey creature. She just didn't know that.

"Talk is cheap," the vampire grunted. That translation made no sense to the predator. "You'd never do it. You said this thing was a tracker? I'm betting whatever it does, you torturing me will fuck up its usefulness. Care to try again?"

The Renegade was at a loss. Clearly threats were ineffective. How to deal with this creature? If threats did not work perhaps incentives would. But what to offer? He never paid much attention to what humans prized let alone vampires. They seemed to covet material things or currency to acquire material things. Actually currency seemed paramount to human life. Everyone from the bad blood humans to the "elite" of their society was always in search of "money". Money got them what they wanted. Money… Suddenly he remembered a phrase he had recorded off a crime boss on a previous hunt.

"Money is power son, and don't you ever forget it!"

The vampire looked at him puzzled. "What?"

Money is power. He had no money and wasn't about to steal it for this wretched thing. Humans wanted money. Some humans also wanted power. This little female claimed to be a hunter. A hunter would be interested in power. A plan began forming as the vampire spoke again.

"You're gonna pay me? What kind of alien are you?" she asked incredulously. "You could have all the money in the world and it still wouldn't be enough for me to let you stick some fucking alien cattle tag in me!"

"The device I implanted is a life tracker. It monitors bio signals. I am merely gathering information."

"Are you kidding me?" she suddenly laughed, a rich yet disturbing sound. The Renegade was off put but at least she had stopped digging her own flesh. He just stared.

"No fucking kidding," she chucked. "The damn tabloids always say its anal probes." Again this meaning of the translation was lost on the yautja.

"So what's the deal you really flew God knows how many light years just to do experiments on me? Where's your UFO?" she laughed again.

The Renegade was confused. What was she saying? He chose to ignore it and continue, hoping to bait closer to where she might bite.

"I did not fly here for experimentation. I know all about humans. I wish to know more about their dominant species"

"Really?" she asked sceptically. "Why didn't you just ask?

"I know vampires are infected humans. I know they are stronger and faster. I wish to study the virus and the exact changes."

"Why?" she was curious now but still hostile. "So you could kill us better? Find our weaknesses?"

It was the Renegade's turn to laugh.

"I know all about your weaknesses. Silver. Garlic. And as I'm sure you're aware I require none of them." At this he activated his plasmacaster and pointed at her heart for show. She glanced down at the three dots on her chest and shrugged.

"So what are you after?"

"I want to see how vampires reproduce."

"We fuck, just like everything else," she responded laughing again. The mask translated "fuck" correctly in this case, as a vulgar term for mating. The Renegade chattered impatiently.

"No I wish to know how the infection is spread."

"Oh. That. We bite, you turn. Want a demonstration?" she asked coyly. Despite the pain this creature had inflicted on her she had to admit her curiosity was aroused.

"Yes."

She was shocked at his response but covered it up quickly. "Well step inside then Mr. E.T. and I'll show you firsthand."

The Renegade managed not to scoff at her implication and continued.

"No I wish to see how a human is turned."

"Why?" she asked, her curiosity continuing to rise.

"So that I may perfect the operation. Make it better." This was a stab in the dark. He was talking nonsense in the hope of electing the right response.

"And why would you want to do that?" she asked disbelieving.

"So I may have something to offer in exchange for asylum." There was the bait. As he waited for her to work through this bit of information he was glad his mask gave no expression away no matter how alien and unreadable it would be to this creature.

"Asylum? You want to move here?" she raised an eyebrow incredulously. This was amazing.

"You said you were hunters. I am a hunter as well. That is all my people do. Hunt, according to old customs, paying tribute to the elders. I have grown tired of the elders and their customs. I wish to disappear somewhere where I may rule, beside equals. I will make your people stronger in exchange." He leaned in for effect. "And I will make you stronger first, by making you the one to offer this gift onto your people"

She could not believe what she was hearing. Was this thing for real? "And how exactly are you gonna do that?"

"The machine that monitors your tracker is one of the most advanced science modules my people have. It has already analyzed samples of your blood and some readings of your tracker while you were unconscious. It can manufacture nearly any chemical compound possible and it already has a possible solution to make vampires immune to garlic. This would be a worthy gift I think" Pure fabrication but though the Renegade wasn't an expert on human facial expressions he could tell she seemed intrigued.

The vampire for her part found it hard to believe. Maybe this alien was serious about staying on earth. But she doubted he was willing to remove their imperfections just for a chance to live here. Even if it could be done no one would be that stupid as to make vampires invincible just to live with them. He had to be lying. But maybe she could still gain something from it. Now that it was talking instead of slicing her up she was more up to the task of manipulation.

"Maybe," she said thoughtfully "Or maybe we don't want some alien messing with our genes. Now if you were to give us some of that laser technology to study, we might be able to work something out."

Surrender yautja technology? To these pathetic creatures? The mere mention of the foulest crime a hunter could commit was enough to send the Renegade into a hot rage, despite the part he had been playing. But with restraint bordering on the supernatural he gave no outward sign of this beyond a clenching of his mandibles. Forcing himself to calm down once again he slowly made his reply.

"I cannot simply give you my technology. But perhaps I can use it to your benefit." In a sudden flash of insight he added. "Perhaps there is an enemy you would like vanquished? Some foe that plagues your kind relentlessly?"

"Blade," she whispered softly. She knew he was baiting her. She knew he hadn't told the truth about why he wanted the data. But still, if she could turn him on the Daywalker…

"Blade?" the alien inquired.

"Blade. The Daywalker. He hunts and kills us for no reason. He's a half-breed. He's got vampire strength and speed but doesn't have our weaknesses."

Ah, so that was what they called the human vampire hunter. Blade. The Renegade once again wished he could really hunt him. Such would truly be the challenge to top all others. One day he would return. And on that day he would hunt this "daywalker". But for now he must continue the charade.

"You wish me to kill this Blade for you?"

"No!" she hissed. "No, I want him captured! Capture him and I'll kill him. Then I'll take you to our leaders. Blade's head will be your ticket in."

"And if I do this you will let me gather my data?"

"Yes. Bring me Blade and you can take all the readings you want," she smiled. "Deal?"

The Renegade smiled too, inside his mask. Though he had spoken more now than he had in years he discovered he was a much better liar than he thought.

"I will hunt and capture Blade." He turned to leave.

"Hey! I still need to feed genius!" she shouted after him. The Renegade turned back. A quick scan of the tracker data confirmed dangerously low levels of haemoglobin as well as a certain unidentifiable tensing of the whole organism.

"Vampire anatomy 101, my little extraterrestrial friend," she called out. "Always feed the vampire. Otherwise we can get cranky."

"You need blood?"

"Yeah, Einstein I do," she snorted. "And fresh blood too. After what you did to me, I should fucking gorge myself."

"Very well."

Further remarks were cut off as he closed the soundproofed door. If it was true, what she had said about the bite being the way the virus spread, he should be free of her soon. Defenseless or not, he would enjoy killing her for the aggravation she caused. He had suspected it was the bite that carried the infection, perhaps the fangs or the saliva the actual vector, but he wanted confirmation. He went to the science module and took out an identical tracker to implant the human with. He would also need more of the sealing mixture as the human would not heal fast enough on his own. Once this was prepared the Renegade went over to his cell and opened the door.

As soon as he saw the alien Jimmy shrank back as far into the corner as he could without actually touching the lasers. The thing loomed over him, metallic face fearsome yet impassive clicking and chattering. In his left hand he held a vial of a glowing green substance and in his right he held some type of blade. Jimmy was scared shitless.

"Get away from me! What the fuck do you want?" he screamed.

"Hold still junior. This one's gonna sting," a distorted voice came out of the thing's mask.

"No, nooo!" Jimmy screamed. He continued screaming until the alien's blow once again sent him crashing into unconsciousness.

The Renegade waited a bit to sell the illusion that he had gone out to capture a human (after all she had not seen him bring this one in). In the meantime the sealant would also do its job and be used up. If the yautja's suspicions were correct it would be wise for his other captive not to discover he was monitoring her food as well. After enough time had passed (and the human had regained consciousness again) he used part of his clothing to gag him then he lifted him off the ground and carried him to the vampire's cell.

"Took you long enough, Spock," the vampire said as soon as the door was open. "And leave the goddamn door open next time will ya? I hate not hearing anything. You'd be surprised how hard silence is on superhuman hearing."

The Renegade deactivated the lasers and threw the human in. He looked in panic from the predator to the vampire unsure of which to be terrified of more.

The vampire's eyes burned with an unnatural fire as she laid down on top of him, pinning him. Though she was thirsty as fuck she could not resist playing with him. She removed the gag and smiled sweetly.

"Why, hello there! I'm Eva. What's your name handsome?"

"Get the fuck off me lady!" Jimmy shouted. "There's a fucking monster out there!"

"Yes, there is," Eva put a finger on his lips shushing him. "Better the monster you know though right?" She bared her fangs.

"Oh Jesus, no! Fuck no, get off me!" Jimmy screamed.

"Shh! Let's not ruin the moment lover," Eva cooed. She turned to look at the Renegade. "By the way this is how it's done." Then turning to her hapless prey she bit him.

The human's screams, hoarse and full of pain filled the room. The Renegade considered closing the door. Not only did he not want to attract outside attention but he himself wasn't too keen on hearing them. He hoped this was worth it, as only victory would repair the breach of honour feeding the human to this creature had caused. Visually it was a disturbingly fascinating sight watching the two thermal images with the module data overlayed. The vampire's getting strong, her heat signature rising and becoming more prominent while the human's more vital one was dimming, his life ebbing and growing weak. It then occurred to him that if this human was to be turned he should remain alive for the virus to work. He stepped in and pulled the vampire off him. At first she wouldn't budge and he had to exercise most of his considerable strength to hurl her off him.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Eva shouted her mouth bloody. Though the Renegade did not need to reply, he did so anyway knowing she would not be pleased.

"He needs to be alive to be turned."

Eva stared at him incredulously at first then with unrestrained fury in her eyes.

"That's not the deal and you know it!" she shrieked. "No turnings until you get Blade."

"Wrong. He will turn." He almost wished she could see his smile even though she probably wouldn't recognize it.

"We made a deal you alien fuck!" she screamed. She rushed him but his fist was faster crashing into her face hard enough to break her jaw. A second blow knocked her down. He had not made the mistake of underestimating her. Now that she had fed she would be more powerful. He had been ready.

"No we didn't," He hauled the human out of the cell and out of her reach.

"You can kiss… your little chip goodbye!" she slurred through her ruined mouth. But in the time he had waited a further solution had come to him with such clarity that once again he had been ashamed for not having thought of it sooner and saving all this time.

"I don't think so, copper" the distorted voice of a long dead gangster emitted from his mask. He activated the lasers, grabbed her right arm and ran it down the nearest wall. The effect was immediate. The lasers sliced through her fist leaving only about an inch of cauterized flesh above the wrist. The vampire shrieked in pain and anger but she was now completely helpless. Her feeding had fully healed the cut she had reopened and now she had no fingers with which to resume her work. She could kill herself he supposed. But somehow he doubted she would. He knew her kind could regenerate limbs so she'd likely wait until she had her fingers again. He just wasn't sure he'd let her live that long.

Stepping away he deactivated the lasers long enough to slip through then reactivated them and closed the door silencing her screams. He dragged the human back to his cell. He'd lost a lot of blood, both to the floor and to that creature's gullet. If the virus could bring him back from this certain death it was miraculous indeed. But ultimately not his concern. He needed to know if the variances in life readings between a healthy human and a vampire turning matched the changes between a healthy yautja and whatever the missing hunter had become. If not this was all a waste of time. But if they did, the he would have some idea of what he was facing- and how to take it down.


	5. Chapter 4

Well it's been about a year since the last update. You are fully justified in being royally pissed. I'm sorry I let myself get so distracted. There was school and stuff. I know it's not much but I'm uploading two chapters this time around instead of one. Well more like 1.5 to be honest. A good chunk of this one is really a novelization of some scenes from Blade II. I'm not in the plagiarism business, I just felt it was a natural progression and I wanted to incorporate the events of the movie more as they are supposed to be happening simultaneously. There will be more overlap but I'll try to keep it to a minimum. On the plus side I just graduated so in theory more spare time should equal more updates. I will try my damnedest to make it happen. Thanks to everyone who's still here and especially **BLAKKSTONE, Pskullv, Bkaa19, noodle-monster, KeanuGrym, starspawn07 and Lord Siravant** for reviewing even in the face of possible abandonment issues.

Also none of the licensed franchise characters, settings, or plots belong to me nor are they being used for profit. At least in this universe. But I can't be held responsible for what some other universe me is doing now can I? And you shouldn't be worried about it either. Let those other universe lawyers deal with it!

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Chapter 4

The five vampires ran through the deserted building as if the devil himself were after them. Which, for all intents and purposes it was. Their leader, a bald and imposing creature with a tattoo on its neck was in the lead. Behind him ran a most ridiculous character, fat and balding with pink feathers sprouting from his collar, the kind that would be labelled an insignificant loser at best or a pedophile at worst and not to be given a second glance unless he were the latter. Indeed the only feature that was even remotely threatening was the fangs protruding from his grimacing mouth. The rest of the group were enforcers, vampire thugs with guns, fangs and little else. They had been in this neighbourhood (typically presided over by the fat man who called himself Rush and this was the only reason he was with them) to investigate the disappearance of three of their own, two vampires named Heinrich and Eva and a new familiar named Jimmy or Johnny or something like that. The familiar was unimportant; there were hundreds more where he came from and Heinrich was generally useless. But Eva was important to their master. Eva was a fighter. Samuel needed all the fighters he could get. Especially now since they were holding the Old Man.

Behind them the shadows twisted and soon revealed a dark man in fast pursuit. The group of hapless vampires ran on with the Daywalker hot on their trail. Blade sped down the hallway, semi-auto already pointed at an adjacent hallway clearing it of threats without so much as a pause. Up ahead, one of the vampires shouted a warning to his comrades.

"Daywalker's here! Stop him!"

Two vampire guards stepped out from behind pillars. They were cut down by two short bursts from Blade's gun before they even had a change to raise theirs. He blew past the ash clouds unabated. His targets up ahead had nearly reached the end of the hallway. It was time to end this. Looking up, his quickly grasped his new strategy. Leaping effortlessly to the rafters he ran along the beams without a sound. At the corner two of the vampires that had fallen behind stopped, sensing Blade was no longer behind them.

"Wait," one whispered to the other. They both stood completely immobile, looking back down the empty hallway, ears cocked for the slightest sound of their pursuer.

"Where is he?" one finally whispered, fear and exhaustion clear in his voice.

Blade swung down silently behind them. They turned sensing the threat but it was already too late. Two more bursts and what was left of them was screaming and writhing on the walls as they turned to ash. As for Blade he was already on the move, chasing his remaining targets.

The three surviving vamps stumbled on a balcony four floors up and realized it was a dead end.

"Fuck this shit!" their leader screamed in their native language. He slammed his fists on the railing which bent under the blows with an alarmed creak. Behind him the remaining enforcer spotted a fire escape. Signalling the others, he quickly slid down, his gloves protecting his hands against the burn. Once he was close enough he jumped down the rest of the way into the alley landing in a crouch. He looked up hissing already expecting Blade to leap at him. The sight that greeted him instead was Rush sliding down the ladder. Uninterested in the fat man's ass, the enforcer quickly scrambled to his motorcycle. He jumped on, kick-started it and sped down the alley, ignoring Rush's pleas to wait. Rush seeing his calls were unanswered, wasted no time in going for another cycle. He donned a helmet (safety first, after all) and succeeded in starting the bike. As he was doing this their former leader (not that they would wait for his command anymore with the Daywalker on their heels) slid down the ladder. Unlike his two underlings, he had no gloves to protect his hands. He screamed as the metal tore through them but was unwilling to stop or slow down for fear of Blade catching him. The pain and damage mounted however to a point where he finally lost his grip and fell the rest of the way landing on a pile of garbage bags. He scrambled to his feet screaming for Rush to wait. But the fat man had other plans. No one had waited for him. Why should he be any different? He wouldn't risk Blade getting close to him for anything. If there was one thing he had learned both in his human life and in his new form was that he look out for number one. So he tore after the enforcer wanting nothing more than to get as far away from there as possible. The leader ran after him screaming until his breath was depleted.

Back on the forth floor the shadows moved again and a dark form soon burst out, leaping from the balcony and hurtling to the ground arms spread like a man taking the final plunge. Unlike a depressed suicidal though, Blade merely flipped mid air and landed in a crouch, looking none the worse for his drop. He whirled, bringing the gun to bear on the running form and fired exactly one bullet. It caught the leader just below the heart punching a small hole in his back. The exit wound was another matter entirely. Half his lower torso was gone in a burst of flame the edges smouldering. As the hole which would have looked more at home in volcanic rock than a living being widened, a second shot blew out the right side of his chest and a third took the top of his skull. What remained soon crumbled into embers blowing in the wind with only the slightest trace of a human skeleton remaining briefly to fall unceremoniously on the pavement before it too crumbled into nothing.

Meanwhile the enforcer had hit a dead end again. The exit to the alley was blocked by a black Dodge Charger with tinted windows. He had no doubt whose car it was. Hissing he wheeled his bike around just as Rush pulled up. The two paused for a bit considering their options. They were cornered, their only advantage the cycles they rode. Back in the alley they could see the still glowing pile of ash their leader had been and further back was Blade himself, standing unconcerned. Waiting. Revving his engine the enforcer glanced briefly at Rush. Though he could not see his expression through his helmet he could feel the fear emanating off the fat man. Why the fuck had they taken Rush with them? Then as if an unseen hand was propelling him towards his destiny, the enforcer's mind cleared and he kicked the bike in gear, Rush right behind him, both hurtling towards their would-be executioner.

Blade watched their approach calmly. He needed one alive. He had already decided on the fat one for much the same reasons as another hunter had on a previous night, that he would be easier to intimidate, easier to control. Great minds think alike. He cracked his head slowly side to side and grinned.

Ahead, it was actually Rush who had taken the lead. Perhaps it was the adrenaline and he hadn't realized he had passed his compatriot. His world had been reduced to a tunnel, himself to a projectile. His fear was momentarily forgotten in the rush (no pun intended) of the charge, the speed of the attack. He would charge into Blade and through him. His helmet would protect him… he could not say the same for Blade. Closer now. He could see his enemy's expression of grim concentration now. Blade moved suddenly. But not to get out of the way. Instead he merely held up his hand. In it, a silver object suddenly expanded. He whirled, crouched and twisted and let the glaive fly. The tiny but lethal set of curved blades streaked towards the oncoming riders. They both dodged to one side allowing the glaive to pass between them. The enforcer veered further and rode behind a cargo container that barely afforded enough clearance between it and the wall. Sparks flew as the handlebars and outermost edges of the bike scraped along the sides. Rush continued his charge down the alley but soon sensed the glaive's return trajectory was due to pass straight through his head. He wasn't sure if the helmet would protect against that. He ducked and veered again and the glaive sailed past his head and into Blade's hand.

His momentum permanently altered and his charge ruined, Rush twisted the bike to the side intending to slide forward and take out Blade broadside. At the last moment however Blade leapt up and Rush slid harmlessly past him. To add insult to injury Blade's legs struck out in midair, delivering two vicious kicks to his head. Somehow he managed to stay on the bike and the helmet absorbed most of the shock. But he was now out of position and he would have to quickly recover for another go.

Meanwhile the enforcer had emerged from behind the container. Gunning the engine, he cleared a ramp of debris and came hurtling out of the air towards the Daywalker. Blade bid his time until the last second and slid out of the way with shocking speed, the enforcer only grazing his flapping coat. He braked and turned coming up beside Rush for another pass. He was just about to suggest that they charge together and used what now seemed to be their only advantage- numbers.

Rush however, was already speeding towards Blade again. The distance being much shorter caused Blade to change his strategy. Rather than throwing the glaive, he merely sidestepped, crouched, extended his arm and braced himself. Silver titanium met thousand CC superbike with a scared but pissed off vampire on top and the former came out the victor. The glaive tore through the front wheel and a good chunk of the engine block. Blade's vicelike grip absorbed the shock with only a grimace to show for it. He was otherwise unmoved. The effect on Rush however was completely different. He was ejected from his mount with a scream and sailed through the air a good few feet before crashing unceremoniously on the pavement, the wrecked bike tumbling after him with parts already falling off.

Hearing the other bike roaring towards him Blade turned to face the last threat. Judging the distance between the oncoming vampire and himself Blade leapt up, twisted in midair and landed on the bike right behind the shocked enforcer. A silver garrotte appeared in his hands and he wrapped it around the throat of the vampire before the latter could protect himself. Twisting in one quick motion the vampire's head came off and Blade was showered with glowing ash as motorcycle flew through the burning cloud that was once his body. Blade quickly slid into the driver's seat and grasping the handlebars braked hard. The bike came to a rest a mere inch from his Charger. Blade looked down making sure he hadn't scratched his wheels. One thing he didn't take to kindly was paintjob damage in the line of duty. Blowing a quick kiss to his car he turned the bike around and leisurely rode back to his target.

Rush was in terrible shape. Everything hurt. His knees had been scraped raw. His left arm was broken and quite useless. He crawled from the wreck like a wounded dog as Blade pulled up beside him. Rush looked up at him and could tell even through the mask visor and the Daywalker's dark glasses that there was no pity in those eyes. He would die. But Blade had a different course in mind. Dismounting casually he approached the beaten form and grabbed him, throwing open his visor so he could look into his eyes. And as Rush realized his true goal he began babbling.

"No! I don't know where they're keeping him!" he cried.

Blade looked unconcerned as he tightened his grip. "Take me to him. And I'll consider you a loose end."

"Please… I don't know!" Rush begged weakly.

Blade shook his head. More persuasion would be needed. Beside them the broken bike was still idling. He slammed it in gear and transferred his grip on the fat man from his right to his left. Then reaching the throttle he twisted sharply. The undamaged back wheel began spinning, its spokes a blur. With his left hand he forced Rush's head closer and closer to the wheel. Predictably, Rush's wailing became louder than that of the bike.

"No! Please! He shot himself. Then he turned. We just keep him. Nooo!"

Blade's face was impassive. He forced him even closer. The helmet met the edge of the wheel and it was soon torn off of his head. A normal human's head might've gone along with it but Rush's neck took the force. His terrified beady eyes were frantic switching from the spinning wheel to Blade's inscrutable face at an alarming rate. After that point it did not take long at all to agree to Blade's demands. He was suddenly hurled from the bike and landed in a heap. Blade stood up and stepped away from the bike which idled briefly before finally dying with sad final bang.

As he was about to drag Rush to his car, Blade looked up sharply. The alley was empty… but it did not feel that way. His gaze travelled up the fire escape and to the roof. Still nothing. But for some reason, he felt watched.

The Renegade had almost sprung down to challenge the so called Daywalker, mission or no. Rather than wait for the human to turn he had gone out in search of another clue, anything that could give him a new angle to pursue. Now that the tracker was feeding more information about the vampire it was becoming increasingly apparent that it did not match the readings on the wayward yautja. There were enough similarities to warrant continued watch. But he was more and more certain that the turning human would not provide much useful information. The exasperation at this waste coupled with the resulting need to hunt something, anything had driven him to the rooftops restless. And that was when he had spotted three vampires exiting from a building in a panic. They had scrambled down a ladder while Blade himself had merely leapt off the ledge.

Watching the human hunter in action was startling. Though the Renegade had intellectually known of his abilities, seeing him hunt was another matter entirely. It was said he had vampire speed and strength. While that may be true, the Renegade realized he did not move like them. He did not fall prey to overconfidence in his power. All the vampires the predator had seen and hunted had one thing in common- they believed the powers bestowed on them by their infection made them invulnerable. Even when he had decloaked and taken them on hand to hand they had not changed their tactics (if one could call it that) when confronted by the obvious alien threat he presented. They had simply come at him grasping, confident that they once they got their hands on him they could bend him to their will and sink their loathsome fangs into his hide. And these were the so called "warriors", the ones that actually stood their ground. For all the power these creatures had at the core, they were still like the rest of human society- arrogantly embracing luxury and a false sense of security while neglecting the training that could keep them alive. Though there were exceptions, this race had stopped adapting to their environment. Rather they were adapting the environment to suit their fancies and growing weaker as a result.

This "Daywalker" was different. Even if he had been merely human, he would've been one of those exceptions, the ones that realized that their primitive technology could be stripped from them, that the safety of their self-regulated environments was an illusion that could be shattered as easily as any dream. They were the ones that learned to depend on their own prowess for survival and honed their bodies to endure, their minds to overcome.

On top of this instinct, Blade had clearly trained to hunt. Perfecting all the tools at his disposal with one goal in mind, the efficient dispatch of vampires, the hunter had left nothing to chance. Any one of his prey might match him in speed or strength. None would match him in training. Saying he moved like them meant underestimating the situation. Blade moved like a hunter. And to the Renegade's increasing surprise he was echoing yautja themselves.

Oh he wanted to hunt him. He wanted Blade to dispatch the last of the prey he had been chasing (or if this wasn't fast enough, he could intervene) and leap down and confront the hunter. But the Renegade was nothing if not efficient. And as much as he craved the battle, he knew facing Blade would not bring him any closer to his real target. It might actually impede him.

It occurred to him that Blade himself might actually be useful in finding the threat that had claimed the missing Predator. His purpose seemed to be the eradicating the vampires. Perhaps whatever else was out there might cross his path. The hunter's signals did not match any he had collected from the vampire captive. But there were similarities. And the yautja's hunt had been for vampires. He would not have attracted the attention of any other body of humans that might conceivably capture and experiment on him. So unless other evidence presented itself that suggested the involvement of some other group, some vampire element was still involved. And this Blade might have knowledge of it. He had no intention of contacting Blade directly. But instead of fighting him, the Renegade had decided to follow him and see what new information might present itself.

Blade had finished all but one of his prey and was now threatening him with the broken vehicle he had been riding. The Renegade zoomed in on the thermal images (Blade's distinctly brighter and in the normal human range) and seemed to be demanding he be taken to someone. The translation of the vampire's responses was delayed because of the extra time needed to analyse the different language but he seemed to mostly be begging for his life and denying he knew what Blade sought. Interestingly the last coherent phrase before fear overpowered the fat form was that "he shot himself and turned". Turned into a vampire? Who turned and why were they keeping him? Perhaps there were others doing studies on how the infection spread. The vampire finally gave in and Blade threw him aside. This may prove useful. If the vampire led Blade to wherever the turned one was being kept he could easily follow them and see what information he might gain. The Renegade shifted eagerly.

Suddenly Blade twisted and looked right at him. The Renegade froze, his cloaked form completely immobile. Blade possessed the heightened senses of a vampire. He also possessed the training to make full use of them. A single careless gesture and the Renegade had nearly betrayed his position. He was furious with himself. Such mistakes were inexcusable. He watched the hunter look around, scanning for him. Finally not seeing anything Blade dragged the wounded vampire to his vehicle and got in. The Renegade waited until the engine started before following.

The added exercise of leaping over rooftops after the Daywalker's vehicle were also a welcome change from the inactivity of his experiments. Of course at full speed, even a yautja could not keep up with the human vehicles on foot. But these "cars" rarely achieved full speed in cities where there were plenty of obstacles both physical and in the form of restraining laws. Also while the car had to swerve, pass other cars, and deal with traffic control lights, the Renegade's path was much more direct. Eventually he spotted the building his quarry was most likely heading to. This building looked just as abandoned and foreboding to ordinary humans as the ones around it. But the Renegade immediately saw it was more heavily guarded. He could make out parts of lower heat thermal images in the windows and some patrolling the roof. The biggest clue he saw however, was the telltale glyph by the main entrance, once again invisible to humans but blatantly obvious to his vision mode.

The Renegade moved quickly. He had to dispatch the roof guards and enter the building before the Daywalker arrived. Even with his prisoner in tow, he would not risk getting spotted a second time. Also if he did not interfere the guards on the roof would spot Blade before he entered the creatures' lair. This would put the entire place on higher alert and make both their jobs more difficult.

He leapt from roof to roof getting closer, and finally to a fire escape on the adjacent building. He quickly scaled it until he was on the roof next door. It was an easy leap to land in their midst but stealth was a higher priority in this mission. There were three vampires guarding the roof, patrolling its edges at random, carrying sub-machine guns. Extending his speargun he manually marked his targets, the hearts of the first two and the neck of the third. It was another custom feature in his mask. Automatic tracking weapons like plasmacasters and to some extent smart disks, though guided by the mask's laser sights, displayed a triangular targeting reticule on their target. This was acquired automatically on the target's center mass although the hunter could manually target other, potentially more vulnerable areas like the head or heart. Any weapon not connected to the mask's tracking system had to be fired the old fashioned way. However masks could still target an area even with manual fire although this was only used to aid the hunter in extrapolating trajectories or in the case of sniping weapons like the speargun as a scoping mechanism. Standard issue mask could only target one area at a time. The Renegade's modifications extended this to three. Using a single manual target lock as a scope was no easy feat as it required great hand-eye coordination for as soon as the hunter signalled the mask, it would zoom in on the target area. Using multiple locks meant that as soon as the first target was down the mask would instantly zoom on the next. Such skewering of perspective and the coordination required to move just the right amount to bring your weapon to bear required unnatural skills and untold hours of practice. Fortunately the Renegade had both.

The warrior raised his speargun and triggered his programmed targeting with a single click of his mandibles. His mask instantly zoomed in on the beating heart of the closest vampire. He squeezed the trigger and only he was aware of the slight metal sliding on metal sound as the bolt left the gun. It passed cleanly through the heart of the vampire who only had a few seconds to gape in surprise at the quickly increasing smouldering hole in his chest. The Renegade had already switched to the next one, and barely turned his upper body slightly as he fired his next shot. It took the second vampire just he offered his last expletive. Switching to the third target was even easier as this would not be a sniper kill. Leaping to the roof, speargun in his right hand he hurled his shuriken at the target's throat with his left while still in midair. The last guard managed an incredulous scream before he was decapitated. The shuriken whirled back and was expertly caught by the Renegade. Retracting and replacing his weapons he looked down and saw Blade was just pulling in, his hapless captive in the other seat. He also sensed that his secondary objective was achieved. By allowing the last guard a final scream the vampires in the windows were coming to the roof to investigate while not putting the entire building on alert. The Renegade allowed himself a smile. More prey for him and an undisturbed entrance for Blade. Both hunters would find their infiltration simplified even though only one was aware of the other.

The safe house was supposed to be on high alert though one would not have guessed by the guards posted near the entrance. While the inexperienced rookies on the roof and upper floors took their patrols seriously enough, and the enforcers guarding the old man were generally awake, the senior vamps had arranged their stay on the lower floors to be quite cozy. Gathered around a scarred wooden table, they sat playing cards and enjoying the odd drink. Though vampiric organisms were made to ingest only blood the miracles of modern science had allowed them to brew alcohol synthesized with cloned blood. One thug even had some vials of sanguinated cocaine which he offered to his buddies after doing a line. The enhancements the vampire virus had bestowed had certainly not eliminated the basic human desire to contaminate itself with intoxicants.

There was a loud knock at the door. The guards looked up sharply. Their boss motioned the closest one to the door. He went to the door carefully, alert now for any threat. If whoever had knocked gave anything but the correct identification they would be in a world of hurt.

"It's me, Rush!" the voice on the other side of the door said. The guard snorted and looked back at his boss. The boss motioned him to open the door with a curt sweep of his hand. The guard's last action on this earth was to twist open the door handle. Bullets swept through the door and cut him to pieces.

The rest of the guards were suddenly standing all guns pointed. The door burst open and Rush was pushed in. Blade came in behind him, an iron grip on the fat man kept him safe behind his vampire shield. Rush's eyes were wild as he screamed to his compatriots.

"Don't shoot, it's me!"

The vampires on the other side quite frankly didn't give a shit. They opened fire, a hail of bullets piercing Rush's gut as he shook and screamed with the impact. Blade waited until they stopped and shoved the wounded vampire aside, opening up with his own weapon. Heads and chests exploded as the vampires were caught by his fire. The guard furthest from him managed to duck behind some crates just before the bullets found him.

Seeing no more immediate threats, Blade grabbed Rush again and drove him forward. Surprisingly the fat man moved really well for the amount of bullets he had taken. His groaning was another matter.

"Fuck, it's not silver but it hurts like hell!" he grunted.

Seeing the Daywalked distracted by his hostage the surviving guard dashed out of cover and into the back hallway. Automatic fire followed him but somehow he managed to stay whole. Blade pushed Rush in front of him and advanced carefully looking for threats. He had just entered the hallway when a threat materialized in the form of the surviving guard who came at him with a length of pipe. Shoving Rush to the side he easily deflected the pipe with his forearm and delivered a series of alternating blows to both vampires. Rush was thrown into the wall while the surviving guard was rocked back by a stiff uppercut. The next blow came from Blade's gun arm doubling the guard over his firearm. Bullets soon tore out of the guards back his body burning ash. Blade brought the gun up through the ash in a fiery arch to point at Rush. Rush for his own part was frozen against the wall only whimpers emanating from the fat man. Realizing he posed no threat Blade put up the gun and holstered it. Silver bullets were expensive. It was time for some cost-cutting. Whipping out two silver stakes he sidestepped just as another vampire leaped from above him. Kicking off the wall for the necessary momentum he twisted and stabbed his assailant right through the heart. A back kick then took his burning body out of the picture.

More guards appeared, one actually holding a bigger blade. They rushed at him with blinding speed. The blade wielder was met with a sharp kick to the groin followed by a punch that sent him stumbling back. The next guard came at him barehanded and it seemed he had some combat training as he countered some of Blade's punches and even threw some of his own. None landed and Blade's superior mastery soon showed as he caught the next punch and kneed the vampire in the gut several times. One he was stunned he flipped him on the ground and staked him, with plenty of time to recover and prepare for his next attacker which he sent spinning with another back kick to the face. The swordman came at him again swinging his weapon in vicious arcs. Blade stepped in and caught his arm, pulling him forward. Being this close to the vampire by no means limited his options. A combination of low kicks and headbutts sent the vamp reeling minus the sword, into a wall. He recovered enough to come at the Daywalker with his fists. His companion had been the better fighter however and he only managed a single punch which was caught and twisted by Blade with no apparent effort. The stake in his other hand sliced viciously across his chest twice before being driven home into his heart.

Blade's last two opponents had apparently decided that teamwork was better and came at him simultaneously, one high and one low. Blade kicked out at the second vamp even while he was blocking the strike of the first. Driving a palm strike into the chest of one guard allowed Blade the time to shove a stake into the shoulder of the other. It was not a killing blow but the vampire backed up screaming as the silver burned his flesh, the wound already glowing embers. Blade turned just in time to catch the other's strike. He twisted until he heard a snap and the accompanying scream and proceeded to rain blows on the vamp's head. Doubling him over with a fast knee to the stomach Blade turned just as the other vampire came at him with his own stake that he had pulled out. Lighting fast, he grabbed the stake, wretched it out of the vampires hand and impaled his heart. Pulling it out he turned in one quick movement and nailed the final one to the wall, moving away as the ashes rained down. He walked unabated down the hallway then paused as he remembered Rush. He turned and raised his hand, but instead of a gun he held a single finger extended and pointing. Rush, who had moved from the wall and inched towards the exit froze, his eyes wide, fear palpable.

"Catch you later," Blade said and he turned and walked away. Behind him Rush continued staring and only allowed himself a sigh of relief once the Daywalker was out of sight. Grimacing at his wounds, he hobbled out towards the door.

The Renegade had no difficulty leaving his own trail of glowing ash. He had seen human gang members who put up a better fight than these vampires. Perhaps they had left their weakest on the top floor where attacks would be more unlikely. He could only shake his head at the stupidity of it. His mask had picked up gunfire which meant the Daywalker had entered the building. That meant he would be here soon. If he wanted to examine the vampires' holdings before Blade, he would have to move fast.

He turned a corner and despite his cloaking, was greeted by a hail of gunfire. Disappointment soon turned to anticipation. Based on his studies of the prey, he knew vampire senses were not so sharp as to render his cloaking useless. However as Blade had demonstrated earlier, a trained warrior can make use of those heightened powers of sight, hearing and even smell to a certain extent to sense his presence. His cloaking device, though the best technology any race he was aware of could offer, was still subject to the laws of physics. It could only bend light, not negate it. Anyone with sharp enough vision and the sense to use it could find the telltale refractions, the curves that seemed to distort the space they occupied. One who knew what that meant would make the hunter on the spot. Alternatively lesser fighters could simply shoot instinctively at anything that caught their eye as moving. The Renegade had no doubt which of the two scenarios applied to the vampires at the end of that hall. Still, despite the prevailing beliefs of most of the primitive prey they hunted, a yautja is not invincible. Each bullet fired wildly increases the chance of the otherwise laughable lead projectiles hitting a vital spot. He could not simply charge them.

He pulled out his speargun and crouched by the corner. The vampires at the end of the hall had the advantage of a bottleneck. But they could not truly see him. They had merely responded to the motion. The Renegade leaned out low and slowly, making sure no quick movement could draw their eyes. Three thermal images came into view, their eyes hid by the visors humans used to guard their eyes from the sun. The reason they were wearing these was lost on the yautja as they'd need to protect more than their eyes if they ever came in contact with the sun. Setting his plasmacaster on the lowest setting (he wanted to leave no evidence of his passing on the walls) he set multiple target locks on the heart of the middle vampire and the heads of the other two. He would take the middle one with the speargun, trusting the plasmacaster targeting program to handle the rest. Across the hall three red dots suddenly appeared on the forehead of the guard on the left. The one in the middle turned with a confused look that slowly turned to horror. The first guard had no time to question. The Renegade fired. The speargun bolt and plasma charge left the hunter simultaneously, the spear catching the middle vampire in the heart a split second before the plasma burned off the head of his comrade. While this happened the plasmacaster had already adjusted and fired the second shot. The third vampire however was already moving, whether fuelled by instinct and adrenaline or fear. The second charge did not hit him dead center as the Renegade had intended. It did however melt half his face off, throwing him down with a scream.

The Renegade swore. Damnable parasites and their accursed speed! He ran down the hallway where the pitiful creature was wailing and clutching the remaining half of his head. He crouched and decapitated it in one clean swipe of his wristblades. Then replacing his speargun and removing the bolt from the wall where it had lodged itself after passing through the vampire's heart, he turned again and came to the heavy door they had been guarding. He decloaked and hit it, expecting it to fly open. It resisted him however and with a growl he was forced to back up and charge it. He hit the door with a clang and burst through into the anteroom of the main chamber.

Facing him were five more vampires. These obstacles carried no firearms. Instead, two were armed with long pieces of pipe, one had a chain and the others had blades of various sizes in each hand.

"I don't know what you are, freak but you're going down!" the one with the chain snarled, swinging the links in a blur of steel.

The Renegade almost chuckled. But a challenge was a challenge and could only be greeted by one response. Taking out his maul and extending his wristblades the predator roared in response.

The vampires moved into action. The closest one swung his pipe at him with blinding speed. The Renegade met his attack with his right gauntlet blocking and turning away the blow. He quickly swung the maul around. It caught his attacker's midsection, the weight and momentum of the weapon cutting the hapless vampire in half. The Renegade continued his spin, ducking under the blur that was the second pipe. His wristblades snaked out again, this time snaring the chain that had been aimed at his throat. The links wrapped around his armoured forearm and snagged the barbed edges of his wristblades. The Renegade pulled the surprised vampire into the charge of one of the blade wielding ones, such that his comrade's knife was suddenly lodged in his back. The chain vampire screamed. The second pipe vampire swung low this time, aiming for the knee. The Renegade met his attack with the maul and once countered, delivered a fierce back kick that sent the bloodsucker sprawling. The other knife man had been waiting for an opening and seeing one, he hurled one of his blades with all his strength towards where he guessed the creature's heart would be. The Renegade grabbed the chain that was still tangled around his blades (and was still somehow in the clutches of his attacker) and snapped it forward, bringing the chain vampire once again in the path of his ally's weapons. Once he had made the creature take his blade for him, the Renegade booted the chain vampire clear across the room finally getting him off the chain. He then quickly stepped in and stabbed the first knife vampire with the maul. Given that the maul was meant to be a swinging weapon as opposed to a stabbing one, the wound was not instantly fatal, nor as gory as that of his first comrade had been. Still with over four feet of alien steel protruding from his chest, the vampire would be out of the fight for long enough. The Renegade snapped his right arm forward, the length of the chain whipping out to catch the second knife guy in the face. He pivoted and swung again, this time disentangling the chain and sending it flying to take out his legs. The vampire went down with a scream. By this time the second pipe guy had rejoined the fight. Swinging wildly he managed to nick the yautja's shoulder armour once, before the alien caught the pipe in his left hand and drove his wristbades through his chest. Grabbing the pipe from the burning vampire's hands he swung low and made contact with the first knife vampire's gut just before the latter, now armed with his maul could land a strike. A sweep of his wristblades and he regained his maul while his attacker lost his head.

The Renegade cocked his head and watched his remaining two foes. The chain vampire had recovered his weapon as well as holding one of the blades that had stabbed him in his other hand. The other vampire stood with a limp, a blade still in his hand. The chain vamp feinted left but his chain streaked out right. At the same time the other vampire hurled his remaining knife and it was if it suddenly vanished from his hands. The speed was almost impossible to see, almost impossible to prevent. Almost. At the last second, steel met a far superior extraterrestrial alloy with a vicious clang. Maul met knife while wristblades reacquainted themselves with chain links. The vampire was smart enough to let go of the chain this time and it clattered to the predator's feet when the Renegade lowered his arm. He retracted the maul and replaced it on his suit. Across from him the vampires watched him, fear in their eyes. They were down to a single knife between them, both of them hurt and bleeding, while the alien in front of them hadn't even broken a sweat. Indeed as the watched in dread fascination he retracted his wristblades and seemed merely to be waiting for something. His left hand was still behind his back. He twitched slightly and the blade vampire lost it. He raised his arm to throw his final knife. The alien was faster. He swung his left arm forward, a circular thing sprouting blades erupting from it as it streaked towards the vampires. It sheared the blade vampire's face on a chain vampire turned to run but he hadn't taken more than two steps when the shuriken tore through his neck and sailed around back to its master.

The Renegade analysed the fight. Finally a worthy exercise. Though one that had taken too long. He turned and sensed the Daywalker would soon find his way here. Cloaking, he quickly moved forward into the storage room all these vampires had guarded with their pitiful lives.

The sight that greeted him was not what he expected. He had expected some kind of human research facility, however primitive. Instead the room was full of oddly shaped tanks and pipes all interconnected and leading to three slimmer tanks in the middle of the room. What was this? Surely these creatures would not give their lives so recklessly to guard mere storage. He approached the tanks in the middle and at first could not make sense of what he saw. It seemed only the one in the center was full. There was a human in it. But the image his mask presented him was inverted somehow. The humanoid shape floating in liquid was almost completely devoid of heat while the liquid around him was warm. A corpse? But why store it this way? Then the corpse stirred and the Renegade clicked in surprise. Not a corpse then. A vampire. But what was the point of keeping it like this? Were they experimenting with stasis fields? But humans did not possess that technology although from what he had seen from his own inquiries preserving a vampire would not be as hard as preserving a normal lifeform.

While this may have been intellectually interesting, the Renegade was disappointed. All that effort wasted. Another dead end, another failure as far as he was concerned. He turned to go but froze almost immediately. Blade was approaching. He looked for another way out of the room and was frustrated to find none. He would not be able to slip past the Daywalker. So he would have to wait him out in this room. The Renegade slid soundlessly behind a larger tank. A moment later he saw Blade enter the room.

Blade did not have the same doubts as the alien interloper. He knew exactly why he was here and what he had to do. Well the last part was not so clear cut. Everything up to this point had been business as usual. The hunt, the fights, the kills. But now he was about to face the only man he ever respected, and the thing he hated most all in one package. And Blade for all his training, all his single-minded purpose was at a loss for what to do. Outwardly he gave no sign of this as he strode boldly towards the tanks. He stopped square in front of the center one. More than anything he wanted to see something different, anything but what was in front of him. But Blade knew reality from desire better than anyone. He knew no matter how hard you wished it away that one thing inside remained there, eating you, taunting you, and in your darkest fantasies, tempting you. He raised a flashlight to clarify what was inside that red haze, not because he wanted to but because that was the reality he was facing. The beam traveled up and up until it finally centered on a pale and wrinkled face framed by a floating mass of greying white hair. The mouth was open, the fangs glisten back in the light.

"Old man," Blade whispered not fully able to keep the mixture of loathing and regret out of his voice. "Look at what they've done to you."

Behind him the Renegade observed the hunter curiously. So this was the old man the Daywalker was seeking. But for what purpose? To kill him? All this for one unconscious vampire? Why, when so many more were a threat, when so many more were better sport?

Blade managed to get the tank open. Red liquid, some sort of blood cocktail cascaded out of the tank, leaving the frail looking old body hanging in hoses. Blade unsheathed his sword. It was time to end this. _He_ had wanted it to end. He had begged him to end it. Blade just hadn't been able to do it. So the old man made him walk. Made him leave him to his fate. He should've stayed, should've made sure it was done right. Now he would finish it. He raised his sword. Now he would…

No. He couldn't. Even now, he couldn't do it. Even when his mentor had become the thing they both hated above all, he couldn't bring himself to that final mercy. Instead he just reversed his grip and slashed the hoses and tubes holding him in places. The old man crumpled at his feet.

Blade bent down to inspect him. He looked the same goddamn it! Vampires weren't human, but Whistler looked the same. Then his lips parted and a glint of fang showed. Blade was reaching for a stake before he consciously realized he was doing it. He froze. He couldn't do it. Instinct kept his hand on the stake but his heart had stopped it cold. That was the best it could do while his mind was in such tumult.

Then Whistler opened his eyes and Blade's doubts were erased. Yes he looked like hell and yes those eyes weren't human. But the expression in them was familiar. They saw Blade and the realization led to only one thing. Relief. And safety.

Blade replaced his stake. There was another way. He would save his mentor, not execute him. He gingerly laid his head back down and picked up the frail form.

"Let's go home."

The Renegade was astonished by the Daywalker's actions. Blade had come here to rescue the old man, no kill him. For what end? It seemed completely incomprehensible. He waited until they were well out of range and then stealthily made his way out of the room. His curiosity piqued, he would've continued to follow Blade had a signal from the science module not pinged his wrist computer. It was followed almost immediately by a second alarm. The first notification informed him his second prisoner was dead. The second alarm warned him that he was trying to escape his cell.


	6. Chapter 5

Two for one special! Get it while it's hot! Also this officially concludes the setup. Get ready for the action!

* * *

Chapter 5

Once the Renegade returned to his outpost, he wasted no time moving to the cages. In the first one he could see the female vampire Eva shouting and waving her stumps at him. He ignored her. It was the second cell he was more interested in. The readings hadn't changed. Whatever had happened here, the science module was still convinced the second creature was both dead and somehow still mobile. As he approached the cage, the module chirped and sent him another update. The creature had pressed one hand against a wall too long and the lasers had reconfigured, shearing it off. He shut off the lasers just in case the creature stuck its head through them before he had a chance to examine it. The yautja finally reached the glass.

At first he saw nothing. Then slowly he made out a shape hurtling towards him. There was a muffled thump as it hit the soundproofed glass and bounced back. The Renegade was startled. The emotion quickly turned to astonishment. The shape before him emitted no heat. None. He could see the shape of it now, humanoid as it moved against the static background. But it was like watching an artificial, a construct move. This creature was no vampire. It leapt at the glass again, jaw slack, though the mouth still seemed to be moving. It hit the glass head on and bounced back again landing in a heap on the floor. The Renegade moved closer and examined the creature with different vision modes. Almost all organ activity had stopped. The lungs still seemed to drawn in air though that appeared to be only because the creature was making sounds. The heart had stopped. There was no blood flowing. It hit the glass again, cracking it slightly. It didn't bounce off this time but remained pressed to it clawing at it with his remaining hand and pounding on it with his stump. Through the cracks the Renegade's mask microphone picked muffled and distorted bits of speech.

"Fucking alien! What… fucking… what'd you… alien… do to me? No pulse…alien…Samuel… what…"

The words appeared to have no purpose. Indeed it was almost as if they were issuing from a broken mechanical recorder, fragments of what had been in its memory previously. The creature backed up and headbutted the glass again expanding the spider web of cracks. On impulse the Renegade activated his cloaking. The effect was immediate. The creature stopped dead in its tracks and looked around dazed. It kept glancing back at the spot where the Renegade had stood. The alien watched the lungs draw in more breath. But the mouth had stopped moving. Instead the nostrils flared. The thing pressed up against the glass, nostrils flaring. It was trying to smell him, the Renegade realized. He stepped back. The creature grew confused again. Its mouth began moving though its face had gone completely blank. It began pacing its cell though pacing was an inexact way to describe it. There was far less purpose to its movements. Lacking a target, it shambled around clutching its stump, occasionally bumping into a wall. Curious the Renegade went to the science module and accessed the creature's tracker. He looked at the brain activity. Again there was very little to speak of. The frontal lobe was completely dark. There was some firing in the motor cortex but little elsewhere. The creature was dead by all standards. Yet it moved. It was no vampire. What was it?

Useless. The thing might be fascinating for a biologist but to him it was now useless. A slow rage began to form, clouding his mind. He whirled and charged back towards the cells, going for the vampire's this time. He threw the door open and barely switched off the lasers before he was through. Decloaking and popping his wristblades he advanced menacingly towards the female who had backed up into a corner at the sight of him suddenly appearing.

"What have you done to him?" the Renegade roared. His fury was further fuelled by the artificial voice that emanated from his mask. Translator chips didn't convey emotion well. The voice was artificial and metallic and managed to convey the right inflections but was otherwise flat. The growls that made their way past the mask however still spoke for themselves.

"What's your problem alien boy? New vampire not liking you much?" Eva spat back. "I wonder why?"

"That creature is no vampire," the Renegade hissed.

"You do know if you don't feed new vampires immediately they'll go crazy right?" Eva said, recomposing herself. Her alien captor had intimidated her in his rush but she'd be damned if she'd keep cowering.

"That creature is no vampire," the Renegade repeated. "It is walking dead."

"What?" Eva looked up shocked.

"The creature has no signs of life about it save that it moves. No body heat, no circulatory flow, nothing. It tried to leap at me when it saw me. So if you wish to keep your meaningless life further you will tell me what you did to it."

"Oh Christ," Eva recoiled. The disgust on her face was evident. "A fucking revenant."

"Explain," the Renegade commanded, storing the unfamiliar word.

"A fucking zombie. A mindless automaton," she spat. "Destroy it. Destroy it immediately!"

The adamant way she said this gave the Renegade pause. There was something else here. Calming himself he continued.

"It is not mindless."

"What?" she asked confused.

"It displays almost no brain activity, save in the motor cortex. But it is not mindless. It recognized me as its captor" the Renegade explained.

"You have to kill it! If it got out it'd try to kill and eat everything in its path even other vamp-"she stopped herself and looked at him in fear. Fear of the creature, but also the fear that came with the recognition that she finally overshared.

"Even other vampires," the Renegade finished in satisfaction. So he had a potent threat for this insufferable creature at last. "Perhaps it will recognize you too as the other being responsible for its current state."

Watching the terror on her face grow erased any final doubts from his mind.

"You wouldn't…" she whispered.

"You will tell me everything about the creature you called 'revenant'. Then you will tell me everything you know about vampire society, including where the leaders are located. Do this and your death will be quick and painless. Refuse or lie and you will be eaten alive by your creation."

There was hatred on her face though it didn't worry the Renegade in the slightest. The horror in the next cell would keep her compliant. And with any luck the Renegade would finally gain some solid leads.

A revenant as it turned out was a human that was bitten but didn't quite turn. For reasons not fully understood, the virus "killed" the host without reanimating it properly. A normal turning was gradual and relatively painless if not entirely pleasant. The vampire that bit you could make it extremely painful, but being turned was usually a reward, not a punishment. Revenants however always endured what appeared to gruesome pains right before they seemingly expired. They awoke a short time later partially decayed. Why the body decayed so rapidly but stopped once the victim arose was yet another mystery. The circumstances of their transformation ripped their mind to shreds. Strong emotions or impressions or last memories was just about the only thing they could operate on. They retained their identity without being able to fully comprehend their current predicament or how the became this way. The brain was mostly dead, motor control barely enough to propel them forward. They inherited all the strength of vampires but without the speed, healing or vitality of their distant cousins. The vampire thirst was another trait that mutated in the unfortunate creatures.

Like the Renegade had surmised, for all the strengths the vampire virus gave its hosts, it also left them particularly vulnerable in other areas. Not just against their banes of silver or sunlight. Their need to consume blood, while no doubt relevant psychologically, had a much more mundane physiological explanation. Vampires had dangerously volatile blood chemistry. Their blood was almost completely incapable of producing haemoglobin. They needed to ingest fresh blood every day to survive. The virus adapted the host organism for this perfectly, reworking the digestive system to handle its new function and instilling the terrible craving upon the hosts' mind. Biologically, it was fascinating. Once inside their system the stolen blood kept them preserved quite well. Vampires were almost fully efficient in their consumption and eliminated practically no waste. But once reserves started drying the vampire quickly became sickly and deranged. It was uncertain whether death by starvation was actually possible. Even in torture situations, the vampire in question had never been pushed past the virus's limits to keep the host alive.

Revenants inherited a similar drive. However in their case the organism was far beyond anything a blood transfusion could cure. Internal systems were completely dead as the Renegade had confirmed for himself. The creature could not even use any form of sustenance, much less require it. Apparently this did not stop the virus from reworking the brain with that all consuming craving. Instead of seeking only blood however, revenants became flesh eaters. Quite likely their brains simply registered a desire to feed without being capable of processing the matter further. Thus they would attack any creature indiscriminately and tear at its flesh. The only way to deal with them was to destroy them.

As she described the creatures, Eva's face never lost its disgusted look. She truly despised these creatures. While certainly revolting, the Renegade did not understand why they would be so feared by the vampires who were more than a match for them. When he carelessly said as much Eva simply smirked, then grimaced.

"You don't get it do you, E.T? Revenants are fucking eating machines. They don't stop, they don't tire. Also they're immune to silver and garlic."

This was unexpected. "How is this possible if the virus makes your kind vulnerable to these substances?"

"How the fuck should I know? Do I look like a goddamn zombie biologist? We don't study the fuckers, we just kill them."

"No doubt the human hunter says the same of you."

Eva just glared at him. "Don't you fucking dare compare us to them! They'd be a fucking plague if we didn't wipe them out!"

"Again, the same is likely said of you," for some reason the Renegade found himself starting to enjoy the verbal sparring with this vampire. A disturbing thought.

"You think so, eh? Let me tell you something, you alien prick," Eva spat. "Revenants don't just eat people. They can turn them too. You may have noticed that thing doesn't have fangs like we do. Doesn't matter. The infection's still there. Only it's not pure anymore. You survive getting bitten by a revenant, you turn into one. You think your little laser beams here are up to taking on an army of these things?"

The Renegade paused. Even to the hunter's mind, the thought of getting attacked by a swarm of these creatures was a discomforting one.

"Has that ever happened?" he finally asked.

"Yeah it has. Old vampire warlord in the Middle Ages thought he could harness the things as labourers and dungeon guards. His entire castle was torn to shreds and eaten in one night. They had to burn the whole thing to the ground and the surrounding village as well. They formed a circle around it, hacking and slashing to keep the fucking things in the flame. The whole night the vampires kept the things in check while the fire cleaned up that mistake. You think humans could've done that?"

"Humans wouldn't need to. Without your kind, their kind wouldn't exist," the flat reply was given at once.

At this, the female reacted strangely, bowing her head in shame.

"It is a… disgrace to make a revenant. It signifies weakness on the part of the vampire. A failure to fulfill our greatest calling, and a crime to do it on purpose. A... dishonour."

The Renegade was taken aback. One thing he would never have expected this creature to display was a sense of honour. Was it genuine? How could it be that creatures such as these would actually find honour?

He did not dwell on such a troubling notion. Instead he continued his questioning.

"Tell me more about vampire society."

Eva had not missed the alien's hesitation. She had finally hit on a notion he identified with. So this thing saw itself as some sort of warrior. Perhaps that was the way to get under its guard. Acting defiant hadn't gained her much. But perhaps she could undermine this creature in other ways. Since she had no choice but to cooperate with it, she would follow this thread and see what opportunities arose.

"We're spread out all over the world. We mostly hide from the humans while manipulating them," she began. "There are various structures sometimes coexisting, sometimes at odds. We're territorial. Each vampire lord has their own glyph to mark their property."

"How are your territories divided?"

"By whatever we can grab. A territory can be anything from a city block to a whole county. Depends on the strength of the lord. I suppose we're feudalists"

The Renegade was not pleased by this. A decentralized clan system would be harder to comb through.

"What lords are in this area?" he finally asked.

"Samuel owns this town for the most part," Eva said. She had to admit the idea of this thing and Samuel at each other's throats was fun to think about. She liked her master's style but in a fight with this creature the loss of either would be fine by her. If this alien wanted to see vampire lifestyle she'd make sure to try and profit from it.

"He does not rule totally?"

"He would, but the Old One has a whole private army just outside of town," Eva bit her lip, not sure how much to say about the Overlord. As strong as Samuel was, he was very much an urban brawler, used to dealing with turf wars. Damaskinos on the other hand recruited ex-military and had the hardware to arm them. There was a rumour going around that he was even training a special hit squad for the Daywalker. If this alien killed Samuel could she lead him to his death at the Overlord's hands?

"The Old One?" it enquired.

"Damaskinos is our Overlord. He… doesn't hold territory of his own the way the other do but he presides over us all. He's one of the oldest vampires. And the most powerful," she baited.

The Renegade scoffed. "Warriors can grow weak with age." He thought of his own Elders and added "And if his rank precedes him and he has little cause to fight he becomes complacent."

"Not us, Metalface," Eva smirked. "We grow more powerful with age. As immortals should."

"Immortals?" the Renegade laughed, his chuckles visibly disturbing his captive. "Your companion no longer thinks so."

Eva gritted her teeth and forced herself to ignore the alien's mocking. "We're not invincible yes. But we don't age. If we avoid pests like you we can live forever." She smiled sweetly exposing just a bit of fang.

The Renegade paid her no attention. The science module had confirmed the virus bestowed unusual longevity on its hosts. Whether this extended indefinitely was a question outside the scope of his mission, or his interests.

"Where is this Samuel?" he finally asked.

"You won't find him," Eva sneered. "At least not alone you won't"

"You're offering to help?"

"Believe me it won't be any help to you," she replied. "But I'm willing to consider a deal."

"You expect me to believe you'd betray your own kind?"

"No I expect you to believe I'll do anything to thrive," she snapped. "And that begins with getting out of this fucking cage. I don't believe for a second that you're asking about vampires for a science project, which means you're looking for something. Something Samuel might know about. So I'll lead you to him. I don't know anything about you. I didn't even see your face. You can let me go." She didn't mention the rest of her thought. _He kills you, I get free and gain power by being the one who led him to bagging an alien. You kill him I'll slip free somehow and take over when the dust settles._

"And if I feed you to your revenant instead? Or kill you outright?" the Renegade asked between deep chuckles. This strange creature crossed from irritating to amusing so fast he was incapable of predicting precisely when her usefulness would end.

"You'll never find Samuel," she smirked. "At least not without starting this whole charade all over again. And something tells me your patience isn't infinite."

The Renegade growled and moved away. There was no reason to take anything she said at face value. And finding the vampire lord's lair would take longer without her perhaps, but he never once entertained the notion that it was impossible. Still it was a weak attempt at a ruse. It might be that she truly believed her kind were that well hidden. Setting her free, even on a leash was a dangerous proposition. But for all her cleverness she couldn't possibly have any sort of accurate idea of his capabilities. Even if she were to escape him completely (practically unthinkable given the amount of data he had on her, to say nothing of his own skills at tracking), there was little useful intelligence she could impart. Still she could not be allowed to contact her kind to warn them. Losing the element of surprise meant a drawn out battle and such a situation created too much confusion. Vital clues would be obliterated or missed.

On the other hand how much more information would she be likely to divulge? He had enough physical data from her at this point to rule out plain vampiric infestation. And the information on revenants while moderately interesting did not match his former clan mate's readings. The only new information she could possibly give him was more on vampire culture. But did he need more? He was no scholar here to catalogue primitive species. He knew there were two factions of vampires in this area. If one knew nothing about not-vampire infections, the other did. That would suffice.

The Renegade smiled to himself. The time of this charade had come to an end.

He moved back toward the cage. "You will take me to Samuel tomorrow night," he told the vampire. "You will make no attempt to flee or to warn your kind. You will show me his lair and its defences. If you perform with no trouble I will release you."

"You're… just gonna let me go?" Eva looked at him shocked.

"Once I have located Samuel I have no need of you. Do not interfere and you will live."

"Deal," she said finally. "Oh and honey? I'm gonna need a snack before we go."

The Renegade turned and walked away. Behind him Eva smirked. She didn't believe for a second he would just let her loose but once his back was turned, even for a second she'd show this fucking alien what vampires can really do.

There is a great deal of physical difference between human faces and yautja faces to say nothing of the characteristics and meanings of individual expressions. However if one well versed in the facial language of both species were to observe these two "predators" they might truly marvel at the near identical looks of smug satisfaction.

The Renegade's was hidden behind his mask but was no less eager than the vampire's. The charade would indeed end, with the latter's skull crushed between his fingers.


End file.
